Immortal Beloved
by Earendil Eldar
Summary: Is love immortal, or is it indeed mortal? When an elleth loves a mortal man, it impacts her decision to sail into the West. That is until something happens that might force her to leave Middle-earth or surrender her life. COMPLETE!
1. Dawn's Early Light

The night wind breezed about the elf as he reclined at the base of the oak tree where the meadow met the wood. Every now and then a glance to the southern sky refreshed his senses as he worked effortlessly on refurbishing one arrow after another. A light tune found its way from his thoughts to his lips and he sang in a gentle elven tongue of the hunter who was seen in the skies, eternally aiming at his mark without ever letting his arrow fly.

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Lye cu na thalion

lye pilin na thenid

lye ore na nole

erio ve eleni!

Ai, tirion hrive,

tirion dhu

tegi i faroth

tenn' minya cal.

The Fields of Cormallen were filled with soldiers. At his left rested his friends, who he doubted would wake until long past the sunrise. Some had found weariness not only beyond their years, but more than most could bear over a lifetime, let alone some months. Others had been plunged into their sleep without an opportunity to resist, having finally been released of a burden that would have long since overwhelmed even the strongest. 

In the months and days leading up to the final destruction of the Ring, Legolas had learned that it is not always the stronger or best that perseveres, but the truest and bravest, and more importantly, the most loyal.

At the elf's right side rested his bow, which he had restrung just that evening. Battle had taken some toll on his prized weaponry, but now that evil was fastly abating and peace was already being resewn there was time again for maintaining one's "_cú a pilindi_." As Legolas finished perfecting the last arrow in his quiver he again checked the tautness of his bowstring. He could have sworn that even his bow was more relaxed now than it had been only just... he pushed the thought of those days from his mind, looking upward again. The stars glittering their eternal hope in the night sky were all the comfort he sought. The gentle hand that almost magically appeared on his shoulder served to remind him again that arda really was returning to right. 

"_Quel dú, Mithrandir_," Legolas said in a soft voice.

"_Earendil_ shines tonight, that in itself makes this night good," was the wizard's steady reply.

"When there was a day that i believed i might not behold a star again, even just the sight of one not so majestic would put me at ease."

"Our work is not yet wholly accomplished, Legolas. Though now there is certainly less urgency to our tasks."

"How fare the Hobbits? Do you believe they can be revived?" Legolas questioned in concern for his small friends.

"They fare exceptionally well for two who have scaled Mount Doom. And yes, i am certain that they will reawaken before long, with the help of Aragorn."

That was something else again to think on. For years Legolas had known Aragorn and had known that he was destined for great things. He knew he was the heir of Isildur, even though he had ran from that title for a long time. Still, to Legolas, the transformation Aragorn had finally allowed himself was astounding. To go from your more-than-typically way worn and weather-beaten ranger to King of Gondor and Arnor, resplendent in all that was due him as such, and in just a few weeks... the change was a lot for an elf, used to the slow rhythms of change of the earth for hundreds of years, to take in. 

Legolas could not help but look again at his friend, the cloak of Gondor wrapped about him, his tunic bearing the white tree insignia, vambraces fashioned of the Gondorian wings. He had to wonder why Aragorn did not sleep in the tent that was constructed for him as king and victor, but he considered that after many years of foregoing such comforts it was perhaps more restful for him to lay among his loyal friends. Legolas thought for the briefest moment of his own royal status but was saved from further thought on the subject by Gandalf's conversation, for which he was ever-grateful.

As the night breezes subsided and gave way to a gentler morning Legolas's attention was turned to the slopes at the further edge of the field. Morning's light revealed one of the elf's favorite sights, the soft green veil of lace that was laid in and about the trees, the promise of spring's newness. Legolas rose and instinctively walked through the forest which was at his back through the night. There was nothing more beautiful to him than the earliest light of a spring morning spilling through the smallest of the brand new leaves. Every spring was like the first one to him and something he never grew weary of, no matter how many years he had known Middle-earth. He marveled that each thing really did grow a little bigger every day in spring, that every day counted, and that as each sun rose he was surrounded with more and more life. It never ceased to amaze him.

He smiled to himself, shaking his head ever so slightly hearing a crashing through the underbrush. After the last year's worth of jumping to his bow every time a twig snapped, the sound might have sent him into attack had it not been accompanied by a most familiar grumbling. Legolas stood still, deciding to wait for Gimli to find him. He listened bemused to the dwarf's never-changing muttered complaints concerning "elves and their forests! ..." 

He could no longer suppress a laugh and gave away his location. Finding him quickly then, Gimli glared as he started off on a well-known tyriad, which Legolas had developed the ability to finish for him. "... But you never tripped over a tree root in Moria!" the elf said with him in a sing-song voice. "_Mellon-nin_, i can not speak for you, but i would rather trip over a tree root than a balrog."

Gimli chuckled, the experience finally far enough past them to talk about. "Please do not, Legolas, for i might die of laughter if i ever saw an elf stumble over anything in a forest. But come, enough with wandering in these trees. If we are not completely lost in here we must return to camp."

Legolas acquiesced to the dwarf's request, knowing how he detested forestry and was more than likely already regretting his promise to visit Fangorn again with his friend. Though Legolas was determined to enjoy as much of the woodlands as he could before the dwarf dragged him into the glittering caves of Helm's Deep.

"Gimli, Legolas! Tell me not that you are both lost in here," came Aragorn's shouts. 

Gimli opened his mouth to call back in reply, but Legolas silenced him as his eyes grew narrow and he peered through the thicket. 

"What do you see Leg-"

"_Sidh, nogoth!_" Legolas spoke in his native tongue, not thinking the dwarf would only be annoyed by it.

"How about talking in a language we all understand for once, stubborn elf!"

Legolas shot a look back at him with a raised brow as if to question who the stubborn one really was but made no verbal reply. Instead he walked with elven vigilance further into the trees.

Aragorn's approach had slowed and, sensing that Legolas had reason not to respond to his call, he drew Andúril. He was not fool enough to believe that just because he had witnessed the fall of Barad-dûr that all evil had ended. He also knew that while leaderless forces of good were almost ineffectual, leaderless forces of evil were almost more dangerous.

"Aragorn! _Linte!_" Legolas shouted suddenly. The former ranger sprinted toward his friend's call prepared for a skirmish.

Any moment an orc, or pack of orcs, would show themselves he thought as he dashed through the trees. Or was it an orc? Northern Ithilien had not been known to house spiders, but it was not beyond possibility. What other creature of evil might be stirring in these woods? Aragorn's mind raced faster and faster expecting to be set upon at every flinch. 

Where were his friends? There was no sign of anything. He began to open up his senses, there was utterly no evil in the air at all. But what caused Legolas's concern? The ranger in him still told him to keep his sword at the ready but he had ceased to run now and went with more purpose. He came at last upon the dwarf in a small clearing. Gimli stood aside looking with a certain confusion at Legolas who was knelt down underneath a blossomed apple tree. 

Legolas turned, looking up at Aragorn. It was then that he noticed that Legolas was kneeling beside someone. A lady at that. An elven lady, he saw as he moved nearer. 

"She needs athelas, Aragorn, soon," Legolas all but insisted as he rose, lifting her into his arms. 

She wore a gown that had once been of a green hue but was now an assortment of mud, blood, and by contrast, tiny white petals that clung to her fair skin and stayed in her flame-red hair. The hem of her gown had obviously been torn a few times to fashion bandages, one of which could be seen not far above her ankle, and her eyes were closed, a matter of serious concern when seen in elves.

Aragorn and Gimli followed as Legolas quickly lead them back to their camp under the beeches. As they came closer to the forest's edge Aragorn asked Gimli to go ahead and see that there was a steaming water in the camp. Aragorn then came beside his friend, but before he could ask the question he had intended Legolas offered the answer. 

"I am sure that she still lives, but only just. She needs our help immediately." As they came to the meadow Legolas gently lay her down near the fire where Gimli was busy trying to stoke the flames a little more.

"That fire is fine, Gimli. What i need most now is Elladan and Elrohir. They are at the slopes beyond," Aragorn pointed out what seemed to the dwarf two tiny elven figures far in the distance. He grumbled a bit about not being a handmaid, even to the King of Gondor, but went with speed all the same with a importunate look from Legolas.

"_Laiquendeva?_" Aragorn questioned Legolas in the more ancient Quenya so as to shroud the question from others.

"She seems so. But what in all of arda would bring a lady to this state? In the middle of Ithilien no less. Where is her escort?" Legolas wondered aloud as he almost instinctively lifted her arm to Aragorn as he cleaned some of her surface wounds, having helped the ranger in the task more times than he cared to admit.

"Three charges. All in the same condition. Two hobbits, one elf." Aragorn shook his head. "I am growing too old for this, mellon-nin."

"Speak not of age, mortal!" said Gandalf thoughtfully, who had returned with Elrond's twin sons, followed by a somewhat slower paced Gimli.

"I will need the wisdom of your age, Gandalf. I will also need my pack, Elrohir, if you will. Elladan, i need you to stay with Frodo and Sam. Do not take your eyes from them, they could wake at any time. Legolas, will you please bring her into my tent? Gimli, bring along that heated water." Aragorn's healer's instincts were beginning to take over as he directed the help he would need to truly put forth his curative power for this unknown elf. 

As Legolas set down his light burden on the provisional bed the lady's eyes fluttered slightly, as though she was trying to fight her way from sleep. 

"_Híril-nin?_ _Man nalye?" _Legolas hoped that his question would bring forth a response but not the one he received, a sharp cry of agony as the she-elf woke to her painful senses at the gentle words.

"_Sidh, híril-nin, im nev_," he said soothingly, taking her hand into his. Her eyes still had not opened as she lay, taking breaths slowly and deeply. Legolas was at least eased to know that she was in a clear enough state of mind to try to will the pain away.

Aragorn entered and set the bowl of steaming water near the bed. He crushed a few athelas leaves into it before setting several new bandages nearby. Legolas knew perfectly the procedure and offered Aragorn one of his knives. Aragorn took it, but instead of asking him to be ready with a cloth to dab away any blood that might be shed from the exposing of the roughly bound wounds, he told Legolas that his help would be more useful outside in the camp. 

Legolas's sharp blue eyes gave him a doubtful look and Aragorn saw in them the wood elven warrior's characteristic protectiveness.

"She will be fine, mellon-nin. I will see to that. But please, i am going to have to work alone."

Legolas's only response was a curt nod before he turned quickly and exited. Aragorn knew better than to be offended; after all, he and Legolas had worked together tending whatever wounds needed to be treated through their entire journey. Aragorn understood his sense of responsibility as well, being the one who found her and currently being the only other wood elf this side of Emyn Muil.

Moments after Legolas left, Gandalf entered carrying a small traveling pack. "Aragorn, this was found in the wood. It appears to belong to her, perhaps there is some clue...."

Aragorn looked up with a sigh. "Just set it aside, Gandalf. I am really more concerned with seeing that her life does not slip away than with the contents of that. However, if you should so dearly wish to examine it, you have my leave." The tone of irritation in his voice was not to be passed over. Sighing again he looked at his long time friend apologetically. "Forgive me, _meldur,_ i seem to be turning all my friends to enemies today."

Gandalf's patient smile told him otherwise. "You carry much responsibility, Aragorn. If you are going to be angry with someone, may it be me. I can take all that you can deal."

"Can you deal me that bowl of _asëa aranion_ water?" Aragorn asked with a thankful grin.

As the scent of the athelas filled the tent and permeated the senses of the injured elf her eyes began to flutter again. Gandalf sat nearby as Aragorn did a careful examination of her injuries, making sure there were no breaks. He then cleaned her open wounds again, this time with the athelas, and dressed them properly. This one was going to be fine, his only concern now was what she was doing in Ithilien in such distress. He could also tell that though she was injured and fatigued it was something further that threatened her life, something that would not be so easy for the king to cure as some flesh wounds, nor even the absolute exhaustion of the two little Hobbits who slept under the beeches.

"Gandalf, please ask Legolas to see me here. I want him to watch over her. If anyone can get an answer from her it will be him." He had been softly speaking in Sindarin as he cared for her, but he received no reply, either in word or motion. Gandalf rose and started to leave but Aragorn called to him again. "I know this is going to be a challenge, but, if you can, see if there is something more suitable for this lady to wear. I've had to cut away a great deal of this garment and i can only offer my cloak."

Gandalf laughed sympathetically. "That will indeed be a challenge, few women dwell in Ithilien in these days. I will see what can be found though."

Before Gandalf could leave though, Elladan spoke from without the tent. "Estel, it is i who am _your_ hope this time."

Aragorn glanced quizzically at the wizard, now it was his brother speaking in riddles. "Elladan, show yourself and make clear your speech. You might have jested me with your superiority when i was young, but no more."

Elladan entered, a board smile on his face. "So you say, little brother. But i have in this pack what you seek."

Aragorn's only reaction was a raised brow. Elladan shook his head. "You were much more fun as a child, Estel, you have spent too much time with adar. Will you not even guess?"

" 'Dan..." Aragorn's voice sounded weary.

Elladan sighed. "I was bringing this to give to Arwen when 'Ro and i meet her later." He reached through the pack, bringing forth a long, flowing silver gown embroidered with flowers of blue. He folded it carefully and set it by the fitfully sleeping elf. 

Her eyes fluttered again and at Aragorn's request Elladan went out for more boiling water. Gandalf left to keep watch over Sam and Frodo. With Elladan returned Legolas, looking only a little less defensive than when he left. Aragorn ignored his friend's mood though and concentrated on the fresh athelas tincture. 

He touched a damp cloth to her cheek, bringing the scent of the athelas near enough for her to inhale. Slowly her eyes began to open in earnest. The pain, Aragorn and Legolas could tell by the glow in her grey eyes, was beginning to subside as she realized that she was not among enemies.

Aragorn smiled to Legolas and spoke in a low voice. "One up, two to go." He pointed the white ash handle of Legolas's knife toward him, returning it. "She is your charge, mellon-nin. As for me, this water must be reheated and a couple of Hobbits taken care of. Speak with her. She would not respond to me, either from restraint of pain or some mistrust of mortals. You may well have more luck than i." 

Legolas nodded in agreement. "I owe you an apology, Estel."

"You owe me nothing, mellon-nin, _gwador-nin_. I have suffered no affront. Just see to her." Aragorn left then to see to the condition of his Shireling friends.

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"Man nalye?" a silken, if not strained, elven voice asked a few moments after Aragorn's departure.

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"Nan Legolas in Mirkwood."

Legolas did not have opportunity to ask her the same question before she sat up quickly, clutching to her the cloak Aragorn had laid about her. 

"Mirkwood? How have i come to Mirkwood?" She demanded as her eyes grew wide with fear. "Am i captive of Thranduil?"

Legolas smiled calmingly. "No longer are any prisoners in Middle-earth. We are not in Mirkwood, but Ithilien of Gondor. I will tell you more later, as much as i am given to tell. This gown is for you to wear. I will be in the camp and you may find me there." 

She relaxed considerably and looked at Legolas as he left her alone. Just before he departed she spoke again. _"Nan Lómëmir."_

"Mae govannen, Lómëmir," Legolas bowed to her before stepping out.

---

*Your bow is strong,

Your arrow is true

Your heart is wise

Rise with the stars!

Oh, guardian of winter

Watcher of night

Lead the hunt

Until first light!

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cú a pilindi - bow and arrows

Quel dú, Mithrandir - Good night, Gandalf (used as a greeting)

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Earendil - The mariner who sailed west with a silmaril - Elrond's father. The light of his reclaimed silmaril was set in the sky as a star.

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Mellon-nin - my friend

Sidh, nogoth - peace, dwarf!

Linte - swift (a calling to hurry) 

Laiquendeva - Green-elven

Híril-nin? _Man nalye?_ - My lady? Who art thou?

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Sidh, híril-nin, im nev - Peace, my lady, i (am) here.

meldur, - dear friend

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asëa aranion - Quenya for athelas

gwador-nin - my brother (usually used as 'brother in arms', rather than blood brother)

Nan Legolas in Mirkwood - I am Legolas of Mirkwood

Nan Lómëmir - I am Lómëmir (Lómëmir translates as Jewel at Dusk)

"Mae govannen - Greetings (welcome, well met, etc) 


	2. The Past, Light and Shadow

When Aragorn saw Legolas emerge he beckoned him to assist him with Sam and Frodo. After a moment Aragorn looked up. "So?"  
Legolas inclined his head in question. Aragorn stared at him, almost frighteningly reminding Legolas of Elrond's expression of annoyance.

"Elladan is correct, you have spent too much time with your _adar_, you are becoming like him." Legolas's smile would draw one of acceptance from Aragorn before he continued. "If you really need to know, i learned that she is afraid of my father."

"You could have started off with the basic information, you know. I hardly expected a conversation over the rule of Thranduil. To think, i couldnt get even a nod from her."

"I also learned her name, but i am reluctant to share that with you." Legolas said only to further jest, and thus annoy, the man who would be king.

Aragorn sighed, having no choice but to bite. "And why would you be reluctant to share that with me, ai mellon-nin?"

"Well, it rather seems she does not want you to know her, does it not?"

The dry elven humor only made Aragorn roll his eyes, though it coaxed a snigger from the twins who were not so far away that they could not overhear. Aragorn had no opportunity to remark before Lómëmir was seen again, now arrayed in the silver gown. 

She nodded toward Legolas and looked about at all the troops of men crowding the area. Legolas noted a gleam of hope radiating from her, though it seemed near desperate. He also saw as it quickly ebbed and she looked weary again. She walked slowly, almost as though burdened, until she came near Legolas. Her gaze fell on Aragorn.

Legolas rose and stood beside her, offering an introduction to the healer she had woken to. "My lady Lómëmir, this is my friend Aragorn. With him you may trust your own life."

"_Hannon le, aratan_," she said with a bow of her head.

"You are most welcome, my lady. Please, be seated with us."

She accepted his request. "I must apologize for not responding to you before, my lord. I meant no disrespect, but i feared for my safety in these darkened days."

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Caution is commendable, not reproachable. At least it is so in my eyes. I should say that i expected as much, and that was why i asked Legolas to speak with you. Though i must ask you what manner of caution it was that found you alone in Northern Ithilien, and in such an exhausted condition."

"Perhaps caution's voice is lessened by that of need," Lómëmir replied carefully. 

"That is a matter that i understand well. From where has your need taken you, lady Lómëmir?" Aragorn asked, attempting to patiently find out as much about her as possible.

"Need has driven me forth from many homes, my lord. Most lately i have traveled from the edge of Mirkwood nearest Laketown."

"Mirkwood? Well, you and Legolas seem to have something in common then." Aragorn could scarcely repress a trace of a grin and his eyes glinted, but none who werent possessed of true elven senses could have noticed the small glitter in usually smiling eyes Legolas's eyes.

"And to where does this force call you, my lady?" Legolas asked.

"To Gondor to the city of Minas Tirith. If there is a city left standing." 

"Minas Tirith stands, it will need some rebuilding, but i have had the promise of the dwarves that that work will be accomplished in such a way that the city will be better than before. What is your purpose there though? Few are the elves who find themselves in need of Gondor's aid."

"It is not Gondor's aid i seek. My need is one only i may know," the lady said sounding as though she felt the two might try to insist she tell them.

"Some needs are so. Others are not, like your wounds. I will not press the matter of your purpose, but i must know more about your wounds. Your leg especially. An orc arrow?" Aragorn said, sensing that it was time to change the subject.

She glanced down at the dressing just above her ankle and nodded. "I managed to flee them with only this wound. When did you find me, and where?"  
"I found you here in this wood only this morning," Legolas answered.

"What of my pack? My weapon?"  
"Gandalf brought a small traveling bag into my tent, he said nothing of a weapon though. What do you wield?"

"Anything that i can lift most times. I have learned the skill of the bow best though. I prefer to keep myself safe from a distance."

Legolas smiled, his reasons for mastering the bow and arrow being quite the same. Aragorn though was concerned. "How long have you been defending yourself?"  
"For more years than you have seen, i have been alone."

It was then Legolas's turn to become alarmed. "You have no family?"  
"No, i have no one. All i have had for many years is some small hope. For many years i dwelt in Imladris in the generous care of Lord Elrond, and there i knew safety and haven. But that was some time ago and i have known many lands since." Her eyes seemed to dim and Legolas rested his hand on hers in support. As he did so he felt a dull ache deep within and knew he was feeling what she felt. The look she gave him was one of gratitude, it had been a long time since she sensed someone was more than just not an enemy but a friend.

"Do not ever feel again that you are alone in this world," Legolas said with a certain degree of sternness. 

Aragorn smiled. "More loyal friends you could not find than those gathered here. And i say to you, with Legolas you may trust your own life." His words purposely mirrored those of Legolas, and were directed to his brother-in-arms as much as to the lady.

Legolas returned the smile and clasped hands with Aragorn in solidarity. 

"I may trust him with my life," came a cumbersome voice from behind them, "but never with my axe!"

Legolas only shook his head. "Lómëmir, i would like you to meet my friend Gimli. Gimli, this is the lady Lómëmir, most recently of Mirkwood."

Gimli gave a quick bow and Lómëmir inclined her head, though her look of perplexity was unmaskable. "It is a strange thing to see an elf, a man, and a dwarf keep camp together. But what concerns me most is the condition of those Halflings."

"We are all concerned for them, lady Lómëmir," Gimli said soberly.

"Mithrandir told me just this morning that he believes they are doing well. Their sleep can only help them," Legolas said optimistically.  
Lómëmir looked up at Legolas. "Mithrandir the wizard? A maia is in your company too?"

Legolas nodded. Gimli stood up tall, or as tall as a dwarf can stand. "Have you not heard of the Fellowship of the Ring?"

"The One Ring?" Lómëmir questioned.

Only Legolas had picked up on the note of fright in her gentle voice. "It is destroyed, híril-nin, and the source of its evil with it, thanks to Frodo and Sam." Legolas could feel the tremendous release that was still in the very air. At some point each of them had come to no longer hope for a future but only to go down valiantly fighting. "Our quest is accomplished," he said almost more to himself, Aragorn, and Gimli, but also to Sam and Frodo.

"The Ring is gone?" she said with a relief that echoed the gladness of many through the ages. She looked around at the companies of men working on breaking camp. "Then that is why so many armies are assembled here? Men from even Rohan and Dol Amroth, Dúnedain from the north. Tell me, is captain Faramir among the number here?"

The three of the broken Fellowship looked somewhat confused that she knew of Faramir, or would be asking after him.

"Sadly, he is not, lady Lómëmir. He is still in the houses of healing in Minas Tirith," Aragorn answered her, attempting to keep the terseness out of his voice as he thought of the reason Faramir was in such a condition.

Lómëmir thought briefly on the situation. "Might it be possible for me to speak with him at some time?"  
"As long as his health has improved you have my consent," Aragorn said, scarcely able to keep his curiosity at a decorous level. One thing that saddened him to see at a decorous level, however, was the two waking Hobbits, Merry and Pippin. 

They made a slow approach toward the rest of the Fellowship, unsure whether they wanted news of their friend's conditions or not. Legolas smiled comfortingly to them. "You two may have slept past breakfast, i am regretful to inform you. However, i am not half sure you can not find something for... 'elevensies?'" Legolas said with a laughter that could only be called silvan.

Merry and Pippin exchanged glances, Pippin's conveying quite plainly that food was now firmly on his mind and wasnt going to leave easily.

Aragorn shook his head, unable to stifle his own chuckle. "There is no change yet, though Frodo's fever is easing up and Sam's sleep is quiet restful. Do not worry for them, they are quite possibly the strongest Hobbits since... well, since.... Go on and eat, you two. And be glad that i am permitting this delay in our march home."

Pippin's eyes showed a certain twinkle, hearkening back to the earliest days of their journey when a couple of negligible meals was all they saw as Strider urged them on quickly to the sanctuary of Imladris. The cousins went off again, Gimli deciding to join them, the three following their overactive appetites and chatting away nineteen to the dozen of everything that had happened since Isengard.

Legolas turned again to Lómëmir. "Forgive me for not introducing you to them. It would do little good for them to meet you on an empty stomach. They would remember you not unless you carry lembas or something else for them to eat. When we see them again though, i shall acquaint you."

Lómëmir nodded, her faint smile betraying her understanding about Hobbits and the food situation.

"_Quel re, híril_," came a steady, aged voice from behind. 

Lómëmir immediately recognized that voice and stood, turning to greet her old friend. When she saw him though, her eyes grew wide. The last time they had met he was certainly not a white wizard! In fact, the only white wizard she had ever heard of was the treacherous Saruman. But Gandalf's warm smile and the sparkle in his eye was not something that any could forge, and Lómëmir's smile of recognition grew as they embraced.

"I apologize for not recognizing you immediately, my dear lady. As you can see, there have been some changes, and i had to search my ancient memory for the last time i met a flame-haired elf maiden."

"It was in Imladris, was it not?"  
"Yes, just before the White Council, it was. When you were preparing to return to Mirkwood, against my counsel." Gandalf grinned teasingly. 

Legolas gave him a vague look, sarcastically feigning hurt that Gandalf would ever advise someone to not go to Mirkwood. He remembered well the Watchful Peace, but never considered it all that peaceful. It was much like traveling with the Fellowship, and in fall when it was less easy to hide oneself in a tree, he jumped to his bow every time a leaf fell. Then his thoughts turned from Mirkwood's bygone days to wondering why Lómëmir would leave Imladris for the darkened forests. This lady only became more a mystery with each question answered.

It was Aragorn who then broke the air of mystery. "Legolas, come with me if you will. My athelas supply is running low and i would be most grateful for the aid of your precise and skillful wood-elven eyes in helping me replenish my reserve."

Legolas looked at him with the smile he held for those times when he knew Aragorn was up to something that he wasnt letting on. He was not, however, going to press the former ranger yet, but instead nodded and rose, offering a hand of assistance to his friend. He was also used to the fact that Aragorn was only this complimentary when he didnt want to outrightly ask for help in a matter that an elf might have an advantage in.

As the two friends walked off into the wood Legolas mused how different North Ithilien was since the Battle of the Camp, little over a thousand years before. He thought of the numerous battles that had raged over the land of Ithilien, but he saw the inherent beauty of the land. He knew that no matter how long it had served as a buffer zone between Gondor and Mordor, the land was not beyond the scope of elven healing.

Lómëmir and Gandalf remained in the encampment near to the Hobbits. Her grey eyes settled on Sam Gamgee with utter compassion. "I see in him a loyalty that nearly breaks my heart. He was not appointed Ringbearer, but he would not be separated from his dear friend who he knew would need his help before the end. His reward will be great, greater than such an humble one can imagine."

Gandalf nodded, agreeing with her exactly. She sat still looking at them for a moment before Gandalf noticed the traces of tears along her fair visage. 

"Lómëmir? What troubles you?" he asked her careful.

She sat quiet for a while before responding to her aged friend. "Those years that you and the Ranger patrolled Mirkwood..." she trailed off and Gandalf read the pain within her.

"When you frequented Laketown? Those days were not so long ago."  
"Yes, Mithrandir, those days."

"You have no need to hide anything from me, Lómëmir," said the wizard gently. "I knew then as well as i do know now. The radiance in you told me then as surely as the pain in you tells me now. Who is he?"

"It matters not, Gandalf. I fear him lost to this War of the Ring."

"Lómëmir," Gandalf started gravely, "i never knew you to give up so easily, and never before knowing the truth of fate. Am i correct in guessing that you were found in Northern Ithilien in an attempt to follow... what is his name, meldur?"

"You are, as always, correct. His name is Vaneldur."

"And why do you so keenly fear that Vaneldur is lost to battle?"

"He was among the Rangers of Ithilien last, in Captain Faramir's company."

"A mortal man?" Gandalf asked, really only partly surprised.

Lómëmir nodded silently. She rose, feeling a slight pain at her injured leg but ignoring it. She already felt defensive having told someone it was a mortal she so foolishly wandered into strange lands after. 

Gandalf rose too and stood in front of her, looking deeply into her eyes before embracing her again. "He will be found, Lómëmir. You have my word."

A smile began to return to her face at the wizard's promise and compassionate presence. "Hannon le, Mithrandir."

"It is you i thank, híril-nin, for i am glad to see you again. You must take care of yourself though, for you are way-weary. Perhaps you should find something to eat. Find the Hobbits and you will find the food."

She smiled in full now and went off, leaving Gandalf to watch over Sam and Frodo himself, until he was joined by Elrond's twin sons.

---

__

adar - father

Hannon le, aratan - Thank you, noble lord

Quel re, híril - Good morning, lady


	3. Fire and Ice

As Lómëmir walked about the camps of soldiers looking for the two smallest of the companies she came across Eomer of Rohan tending to Firefoot, his noble charger. Their meeting was not one of amity, Eomer's fierce stare only meeting the same from Lómëmir. She was, however, prepared for the meeting, having seen the banners of Rohan about the field. She had decided to simply pass by silently, taking the high road, until she heard a muttered comment seemingly directed at her by the horse-lord: "A field of victory is no place for an elven lady."

She turned quickly to him, her stare now growing all the hotter.

"_Uara, helka-adan!_"

Eomer turned to one of his men standing nearby. "You see how incredibly rude these wood-elves are?"

"Rude? It is you who hunts down innocent men!"

"Not innocent, lady. Traitorous."

"_Nelye peda cait!_"

It was no secret that Eomer did not particularly like elves. He saw them as dangerous beings and had gone to lengths to avoid Legolas while the broken Fellowship was in Rohan. But it was obvious that these two had a history somehow and the soldier assisting Eomer decided it might be best to quietly slip away as the altercation continued and grew more intense. Fortunately Eomer understood but a little elvish and when Lómëmir cloaked her words in both Sindarin and Quenya, Eomer had little chance of understanding the full impact of her meaning. That fact, however, only served to anger him further.

No one wanted to get any where near this argument. Anyone who knew anything of green elves knew better than to interfere in one's fight. Likewise, anyone who knew anything of Eomer considered it better to not get involved. Between the companies of Gondor, Rohan, Dol Amroth, the Dunedain of the North, and Elladan and Elrohir, no one would step in. If Legolas and Aragorn had been near, neither of them would have risked intervening either. The Hobbits, as did Gimli, blankly refused.

Gandalf sighed, realizing only a Maia could safely break up this 'minor dispute of facts.' He knew that this was the wrong time for these two to meet up and was only glad that the argument had ensued far enough away to not wake the healing Hobbits. Lómëmir had her distresses, Eomer had his, and both had an abiding hate for the other which was inextricably linked to their own personal hurts.

Once separated, Gandalf ensured that there would be no more such arguments for a while. Eomer was sent on a mission to find Aragorn in the woods and call him back to camp. Samwise had begun to stir from his deep sleep.

Uara, helka-adan - Ignoble, cold mortal

Nelye peda cait! - thou art speaking to lie


	4. Common Ground

_Though the last one was short, the information in it was important. Well, all the information is important of course, but this makes up for the length and is also very informative. :)_

Gandalf sat nearby watching Sam closely. He woke slowly at first, looking about at the land of Ithilien that they had traveled through, one of the last green lands they had known. Frodo's peaceful sleep seemed almost unnatural after the last hours he remembered. The mere fact that the breeze was cool and refreshing and not filled with smoke and ash was a wonder to the Hobbit.

Gandalf had watched as Eomer returned with Aragorn, who hurried into the tent to prepare medicine for the two. He noticed in passing that Legolas did not follow for some while, but turned his attention again to Sam who was now talking to Frodo who'd woken again. Gandalf left them momentarily to assist Aragorn and found that he had already been joined by Legolas, who was going to leave again to bring more athelas.

Aragorn, though, seemed to be content with what they had already collected and Gandalf agreed that much would not be needed now. "I think that our small friends will not need so much care now as perhaps our most recent guest will. You should be able to find her, Legolas, no where near the companies from Rohan."

Legolas raised an eyebrow, unintentionally mirroring a frequent gesture of curiosity shared by both the Lord of Imladris and the King of Mirkwood. He agreed with Gandalf's assessment though and went outward to find Lómëmir again.

Legolas paused just before leaving though, and turned to Gandalf. "How comes it that i did miss the fact that Frodo was awake early this morning?"

Gandalf smiled. "Do not be concerned, young Legolas. Hobbits can be very nearly as quiet as elves and would not be noticed, especially when one is called to other attentions," he said mystically.

Legolas, though, knew what he meant. His thoughts told him that he just needed a little rest. A little time of peace under the trees would surely clear his mind. For now his mission was to find Lómëmir. He guessed that she would possibly be more contented in the company of peaceful trees than the crowds of men.

It did not take long for Legolas to find her where she was talking to Merry and Pippin, listening to their remarkable tales of their parts in the battles that had been fought by the free peoples of Middle-earth. Lómëmir, for her part, was particularly amazed that they had been guests of Fangorn the Treehearder.

For a while Legolas sat with them listening to the two Hobbits speak of the Ents and the destruction of the evil at Isengard. It could be noticed that Legolas's eyes flickered with the desire to return to Fangorn forest again, there was so much to be learned from such ancient beings as Ents. It wasnt until Lómëmir asked him of Sam and Frodo's condition that Legolas realized that he had not even mentioned to Merry and Pip that their friends were indeed awake again and doing well. At the good news the cousins raced off toward the further end of the camp.

"Perhaps i should have made that introduction when i had the chance, then at least i could have warned you. Once they start talking, not all the mushrooms in the Eastfarthing would quiet them," Legolas said with a somewhat apologetic smile. Lómëmir only laughed.

"Híril Lómëmir, would you care to accompany me for a walk through Ithilien's more peaceful region?"

Lómëmir nodded, "I would be very glad to, my lord Legolas."

It was then Legolas's turn to laugh. "I am lord of none, dear lady, nor should i wish to be."

Lómëmir smiled. "Very well, I would still enjoy going along with you."

"No other company could make a walk through the trees more satisfying than it would already be," he said, returning her smile.

For some while they strolled on in quiet, listening to the birds, the sound of rushing water in the distance, and the voices of the trees and the land itself. In time they came to the water and decided to stop for a while at it's bank.

"To take rest under green trees again was all that i had hoped for the last months," Legolas said with a distant voice when they had reclined against a tree.

Lómëmir looked at him, reading the expression in his eyes. "You are called by the sea, are you not, Legolas?"

His sigh spoke for him. "I am called, lady. I can still hear the cry of the gulls in my heart. I have heard that they are the messengers of the Vala, Ulmo. They call for elves of Middle-earth to take to ships and find the Undying Lands of Eldamar and beyond. It seems Ulmo wishes that I go there as well."

"I, too, am called. I have resisted the call for much longer than i should. I greatly desire to look upon Avallónë, though now... there may be very little for me to stay in Middle-earth longer for."

Legolas then turned his gaze from the water to Lómëmir's quiet grey eyes. There again he saw the pain that her permeated her earlier in the day when she spoke of how she traveled alone. A silent sadness came to Legolas that this lady elf was in genuine peril of finding the Halls of Mandos long before any ship could bear her to Eldamar.

He could not help but wonder why she wandered and stayed in Middle-earth if she was so alone. He wondered too why she said that she needed to find Lord Faramir of Gondor. Furthermore, he wondered why he could not bring himself to simply ask her these things. He felt that there was surely some way he might be able to help her, if he only knew what it was she sought.

In the gentle peace of the forest and immersed in his thoughts, Legolas barely heard the small sound of Lómëmir's breath catch in sorrow. When he glanced to her again it was as though a shadow had fallen about her. Although he was not altogether aware of his actions, Legolas put an arm around her shoulder and let her gradually lean against him. He sensed that what she needed the most was someone to be near her. No more, no less, would bring the natural light of the Eldar back to her eyes.

At first she did not relax so easily, but after a moment she could feel only comfort and compassion radiating from Legolas's hold and she slowly rested alongside him. Long were her days since she found a pervading peace and security near another.

Afternoon carried through into evening and dashes of color began to tint the forest about the peace-filled elves. Before long night would fall, bringing with it the renewal of the light of the stars. Legolas noticed that Lómëmir appeared to glow more again, but that she was also seeming to be in need of rest.

"Do you wish to return to camp, hírilLómëmir?" he asked in a soft voice, not wishing to disturb the newly returned tranquility of Ithilien.

Lómëmir's voice was barely above a whisper either in her declining. "I am much more comfortable here than in the camp."

Legolas smiled, agreeing with her. "As am i, my lady," he said moving out from under the tree to see the stars they rested under. "Eärendil is alight again," Legolas said to her, beckoning her to see.

Lómëmir's voice then seemed to be that of ages past as she spoke, "Eärendil shall ever be the hope of the eldar yet in Middle-earth, and the rejoicing of those who have found the West, for it was Eärendil's supplication that won the breaking of the curse of the Noldor when no other could."

It was then that Legolas began to wonder of Lómëmir's ancestry. Her name, though wholly Sindarian, spoke to Legolas as a name of a royal maiden from long ago, though he knew not who, nor how he distinguished the name as such.

"Lady Lómëmir?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"I remember in the tale that Eärendil was called by Eönwë "jewel in the sunset" upon his arrival at Valinor, and that is the meaning of your name. Are you of the line of Eärendil?"

Lómëmir did not answer immediately. Rather, she thought for a moment how she might best reply. "I am of many different lineages, Legolas. I am partly of the house of Fingolfin, yes. But i have never been at ease in the great elven cities as i am among the woods and the sea."

Legolas wondered if it could be at all possible that this lady was indeed a royal maiden trying to conceal her status, as he so often did himself and as Aragorn had for more than 60 years. His smile spoke of understanding, something that Lómëmir was more than appreciative to see in another of her own kind.

"Before i found you with Merry and Pippin, Gandalf advised me that i would find you well away from the companies of Rohan. Have you had the displeasure of a traditional Rohirrim welcome in the Mark as well?"

At the mention of Rohan, Lómëmir's eyes seemed to be set ablaze. "Their manner of men must not have known Númenor."

"Your words are more than gentle to their condition, lady. They were outrightly rude when Aragorn, Gimli, and i were there. Moreso to myself and Gimli as for many years Aragorn was known to their people in his guise of Thorongil."

"Their king is a corrupted man and his corrupter sends innocent men to their deaths for false crimes."

Legolas felt a certain heaviness in his heart at her statement. He knew by this that her dealings with Rohan had been nothing but hurtful. He sensed that it was this hurt that had a large blame in diminishing her elven glow.

"You will be glad to know, then, that Wormtongue is no more a threat in Rohan and that Saruman's hold over the king was broken by Gandalf. Though i am sorry to say that King Theoden did not survive the battle at Pelennor."

Lómëmir nodded silently but her attention, as did Legolas's, became focused on the light of Earendil in the west as it outshone all the other stars in the sky. Neither mentioned mortals for the rest of the night.


	5. The Man and the Sea

After some while, the hope and comfort afforded by Eärendil's light, combined with the peace of Ithilien and the sweetly fragrant night air of spring, found Lómëmir falling into elven dreams. Legolas himself was nearly lulled to dreaming by the same qualities when he heard a slight sound in the trees to his right coming from the direction of the camp. He was relieved to see only Aragorn emerge.

"Finally i find you. How does she fare?"

Legolas glanced at the sleeping Lómëmir. "She has found dreams, pleasant ones it appears. Come rest, Estel. You look weary."

Aragorn sat with a sigh beside his elven companion. "I am weary, Legolas. Sam and Frodo are doing fine, that is at least one concern i am free of, but i have tended so many men this day. Not all of them are doing fine and i do not expect that i really have the power to heal each of them."

"You should have called for me, Estel. I would assist you in your task."

"I know you would, mellon-nin. You, too, need your rest though." At the look in Legolas's eye Aragorn pre-empted him. "No, you do. Even elves must rest at times. You can not mislead me, you forget i grew up in Imladris!"

Legolas merely grinned at the ranger.

"And besides, Lómëmir is your charge, she needs your care."

"She is a very self-reliant lady, Aragorn. What she needs is friendship."

"Then she had fortune in being found by us. There is no shortness of friendship among us."

"Among us, no. However, with the companies of Rohan...."

"Legolas, men of Rohan know little of elves. What they know little of they fear. What they fear, they fight."

"What is their excuse, then, for not learning?" Legolas said pointedly and rather defensively.

Aragorn sighed. "I do not know, mellon-nin. I can not know. I only do know that i am glad to have had their aid."

In a moment or two Legolas smiled again and decided to change the subject. He hated so to disturb the atmosphere of serenity in Ithilien with talk of Rohan.

"Eärendil shines again this night. _Ételë ortanë tára arda_," spoke the elf in the rarely-employed tongue of Quenya.

Aragorn laughed shortly. "Hope... hope indeed. I wonder how long hope can postpone a coronation."

Legolas grinned knowingly and put an arm around his friend's weary shoulders. "Thought of the coronation returns the concern that the halfling's wakening had removed."

"If i take that crown then i am admitting that i am Isildur's heir. It is his fault that we have all suffered so much."

"Aragorn, you have already done everything to correct the wrong done by Isildur. The Ring is destroyed, thanks to your courage and loyalty and keen, nigh-elven wits. Lest you forget, you have already claimed your inheritance at Erech. Think instead on the good that has come from our quest together."

Aragorn's gaze drifted to Lómëmir as he attempted to read his companion's often mysterious elven mind. This time, though, there was not as much mystery. Legolas's eyes shone in the night more than usual.

Suddenly the shine left Legolas's eyes and he sat straight, focusing in on a sound that Aragorn was not aware of. The ranger became very alert also and moved his hand toward his sword. Legolas shook his head though, signaling him to hold.

"What do you hear?" Aragorn asked barely above a whisper.

"They have followed us."

Aragorn looked acutely at Legolas, trying to read him and figure out just who had followed whom.

"Fear not, they are not after you, mellon-nin. Only Lómëmir and i are subject to the call."

"You speak of the call of the sea."

Legolas simply nodded.

"But who is come? Surely you do not mean it is gulls you hear? Ithilien is much too far from -"

"It is gulls i hear. I would know their song from all others. They are not yet far passed Emyn Arnen, but i hear them well. They are calling directly to me."

Aragorn still looked worried for his friend. "Legolas... night has not lifted. Surely they do not sing as the nightingale?"

"They do not, not to any but those who Ulmo is most determined to reach."

"Well Vala or no, Ulmo had best stop calling you until your work is finished. I heard some talk of a possible elven establishment here in Ithilien, did i not?"

Legolas smirked slightly. "Only talk, ranger. There are very few left to settle here."

"More than you give credit for, though. And since this is my realm, i would greatly love to see elves in this land. As a matter of fact, i think my first order of business, after the obviously inevitable coronation, will be to send an edict to Thranduil insisting that he send a host from his kingdom to colonize here."

Legolas's laughter filled the night. "I thought you wished not to admit to your inheritance? Furthermore, unless you wish to bring another war onto yourself, one that i would certainly and entirely abstain from, you had best clear all thoughts of edicts of any nature to my lord."

At the sound of silvan laughter, Lómëmir's eyes elucidified of the mist of elven dreams and she awoke again.

_Ételë ortanë tára arda - _Hope has risen on high for the world.


	6. Band of Brothers

"Quel re, híril Lómëmir," Aragorn said graciously when he saw her stirring. "I hope my sindarin friend did not wake you," he continued with a leering expression at Legolas. Yes, Aragorn was determined to make the most of this very rare chink in his dear friend's emotional armor.

Legolas just shook his head, knowing full well what the ranger was playing at.

Lómëmir smiled at the two and their silent game. Never before had she watched an elf and a mortal man get along as they did. It gave her a great deal of hope.

"My lady," said Aragorn, finally turning at least somewhat serious, "when day dawns we shall begin our return to Minas Tirith. You are most welcome to join us, if you will, and you have the welcome of my... my home." It was only in that moment that the full weight of Aragorn's own words settled into him.

"Your home is within Minas Tirith?" asked Lómëmir.

"Yes. Well, it is now," replied Aragorn.

"Of course it is. I beg your pardon, i only just realized that you too must be of Captain Faramir's company. It was just that you put me in mind so much of the Dúnedain rangers i had scarcely taken into account your emblem."

Aragorn's eyes betrayed a twinkle of relief. This lady did not know anything about him being King of Gondor and Arnor. Legolas very nearly mentioned just that, but when Aragorn made no attempt to tell her, he decided against it, thinking it little harm to allow his friend at least a little time longer to enjoy the one person in all of Middle-earth that did not know.

"You said before that if Captain Faramir was sufficiently recovered that i have your blessing to meet with him. Certainly you are high in ranks indeed," said Lómëmir thoughtfully.

"It looks as if I am the Captain of the Host, my lady. It is my greatest hope that Steward Faramir will be well recovered, for that is a title i can not bear much longer."

"Your healing hand is powerful, yet you are also a powerful warrior. It is a strange thing that the hand the heals also wields a sword."

Aragorn smiled, having heard the same remark many, many times.

"But why you do say 'Steward' Faramir? He is Denethor's youngest son, and unless great tragedy has befallen the House of the Stewards...." Lómëmir's words trailed off as the situation became clear in the eyes of Legolas and Aragorn.

There was some moment of quiet before any spoke again, each taking in just how many had been lost to the violent will of the Ring.

With the first glow of sunlight in the east also came Elladan and Elrohir to find Aragorn.

"Wood elves and rangers... i told you they could only be found here, gwador-nin," Elrohir said grinningly.

Elladan's expression, as ever, mirrored his twin's. "And i told you our brother would come to this. There he has a fine tent, a comfortable bed and all, but he is more content to be at peace under the trees. I am proud of you, _nibin-gwador_. We have taught you well."

"Not well enough!" retorted Elrohir. "He has yet to introduce us to this entrancing lady."

Aragorn shook his head. "I thought well with all your prattle you might have found a word or two of introduction yourselves. It is my opinion that the two of you speak much, even for Noldor."

"Only partly Noldor, brother!"

Aragorn nodded. "Partly is enough. Elladan, Elrohir, this is the lady Lómëmir. My fine lady, these two characters are Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond, if you can believe that. Please do not ask me which is which, i still do not know. And if you ask them you had best do so with a discerning eye."

Lómëmir's laugh took Aragorn aback slightly. He was really only trying to get a rise out of the two twins but her appreciative laughter told him that she already knew quite a lot about them. Lómëmir had to wonder herself just how Aragorn and the twins were on such familiar terms.

"It is surely the most pleasant surprise i have had in a long time to see you again, híril Lómëmir," said Elladan with a reverential bow.

Elrohir, naturally, mirrored his brother's motion. "_Oio na elealla alasse'_, my lady." {Ever is thy sight a joy}

"We would be happy to escort the lady back to camp, brother, but what we came to find you for was to give you word that the hosts are prepared to return to the city," said Elladan.

"Then we shall return, all of us. You do wish to join us, do you not Lómëmir?" Aragorn asked, knowing that once they entered his city he would be setting aside with finality his exile and wandering, and possibly the simplicity of a newly encountered friendship. From then on, he feared, it would be all pomp and circumstance, low bows and begging pardons and general formalities that he rather despised.

Lómëmir nodded simply. "I shall join you, but only with your promise that my doing so will not inconvenience anyone in returning with you."

Legolas smiled and, taking Lómëmir's hand before Aragorn could say anything, said to her, "If such is your concern, ride with Gimli and I. If a dwarf is no inconvenience, then certainly an enchanting lady could not possibly be. There are enough horses to carry many times such a beautiful burden. Though no palfreys are to be had, i am sorry to say, but any war charger would be honored to bear you."

nibin-gwador - little brother

Oio na elealla alasse - Ever is thy sight a joy


	7. Catching up on the Road

The four elves and the mortal returned to the camp which was filled with soldiers from the kingdoms of Middle-earth. Aragorn made certain that in marshaling the ranks for the return that the only elves anywhere near the companies of Rohan were Elladan and Elrohir. The twins were tolerated more by the Rohirrim than other elves only because they were kin to the future queen of Gondor, as Aragorn had clearly explained some time previously.

As Lómëmir rode beside Legolas and Gimli on the roan stallion she was afforded, the sight of an elf and dwarf sharing the same charger was nigh-on barely credible to the lady. In all her travels of all her days, the one thing she had never seen anything like was the two races sharing a friendship, let alone tolerating one another.

Lómëmir decided to find out just how first alliance between elf and dwarf since the first age came about, and she struck up a conversation with Gimli. Unfortunately, the first topic was not a well accepted one. When Lómëmir asked of the conditions in Moria she received little more than a raised brow from the stout rider.

Legolas glanced back at his friend hopefully. "Moria could flourish again now, you know. Think of it, Gimli, Lord of Moria."

The raised brow returned, but this time in interest. After a moment's thought on the prospect, Gimli said, "The Glittering Caves are still more beautiful though, Legolas. As you will see."

Legolas grinned somewhat uneasily and swiftly changed the subject. Speaking of caves, let alone caves in the heart of Rohan, was something Legolas preferred to avoid. "And something you might appreciate more the next time around, mellon-nin, is Fangorn."

Before long Gandalf came to ride by them, Lómëmir being relieved that he might remove some of the awkwardness from their conversation. Lómëmir still had difficulty believing that an elf, let alone an elf of Mirkwood, was really companion to a dwarf. Such things she knew had once been, but not in times of her memory.

As Gandalf rode beside Lómëmir he handed to her the pack that he came across near where she was found by Legolas the day before. She smiled to Gandalf in thanks.

"As promised, i do have word for you, Lómëmir," he said to her, keeping his voice to a level only she could hear.

Though Lómëmir's visage remained calm, her eyes lit up with a shimmer hope as the beacons of Gondor had on the eve of war. Just as the beacons had then, her grey eyes echoed to Gandalf of the need for the aid of an ally.

"One from Gondor remembers that Vaneldur received treatment for wounds sustained at Pelennor. He said that the injuries seemed minimal but that they must have been enough to keep him from the march because none have seen him since. But i must tell you that Aragorn has no memory of giving aid to any of his description, so he can not have been long at the Houses of Healing. Still, that certainly leaves us some hope. I expect young Faramir will know more. If Vaneldur was in his company, Faramir will remember and able be to tell you much about him. Perhaps more than you know yourself."

Aragorn called to Legolas and Gimli to ride forward beside him, as they had done so often before. This time there was peace and the pace was easy enough for the three to converse comfortably. Lómëmir and Gandalf continued their discussion as well.

"From where does Vaneldur hail, Lómëmir? Might i venture to guess Dol Amroth?"

"You might, mellon-nin. Dol Amroth is correct, though he has since traveled much. Nearly as much as i have myself. But his home is Dol Amroth, and my heart is called by the sea."

"A fortunate pairing then," the old wizard said with a wink.

Lómëmir still felt concerned for Vaneldur though. "Did that soldier you spoke with really believe that his injuries were slight? But if they were, why did he not continue to the march on Morannon with his company?"

"Those are questions you must keep for Faramir, meldur. Worry not, Lómëmir, you will meet with him before long. My guess is that the young steward will be quite sufficiently convalesced by the time we reach Minas Tirith tonight."

Gandalf's calming influence washed over Lómëmir as she nodded and the two went on to discuss their travels since their last meeting. They had known each other for many years, having crossed paths traveling north of the Shire when Lómëmir left her home at the Havens so long ago. She listened awed as Gandalf told her of his battle with Durin's Bane in Moria, thus accounting for the wizard's changed appearance. The tales they shared were many and before they were ended night was fastly approaching.

Legolas and Gimli were seen coming back through the ranks to Lómëmir and Gandalf.

"I trust we are making camp soon, Legolas?" Gandalf inquired.

A grumble was heard from behind the elf. "Not soon enough for some it would seem," he said, laughter in his Sindarin eyes. "But to the rest of us, Aragorn wishes to ride an hour more and reach the further side of Osgiliath. He wishes to enter the gates at morning."

Gandalf nodded knowingly. "The better to get the ceremony over with?"

"Such is his wish," replied Legolas.

Lómëmir nearly questioned what ceremony was in order, and why a captain of Gondor would order the time of such a ceremony, and further, why all through the day he rode at the fore of the Dunedain rangers. Her questions of his healing abilities still mystified her as well. There was a link that simply would not connect in her thoughts, but she knew that, somehow, this man was no mere ranger.


	8. Doubt and Certainty

When Osgiliath was reached, Lómëmir was shocked at the destruction that had been done. The last time she looked upon the stronghold, though only briefly, she was struck by it's boldness, standing alone by the river, protecting the City of the King, or Steward as situations warrant. She saw too Minas Tirith in the distance and saw that much of it had suffered the same fate as Osgiliath.

She turned to Gandalf for understanding as so many often did. "What has happened here? What manner of leaguer caused this?"

"It is no different now than it ever was, Lómëmir. Orcs, Nazgul... they are what happened here. Only now their weaponry is advanced enough to bring down these cities not stone by stone, but wall by wall and tower by tower. Those days have ended though, we have seen to that much," the wizard said, offering to assist Lómëmir down from her steed. "It is my suggestion that you get some sleep tonight. You need it as much as any of us here do. Aragorn included," he said, purposely raising his voice slightly as he saw the ranger coming toward them.

"Gandalf, i was going to be a gentleman and offer the lady the respite of my tent for the night," Aragorn replied matter-of-factly.

Lómëmir looked about the vast field surrounding them. There was not a tree in sight that she might comfortably rest under, and so she accepted the invitation, though almost more because she did not wish to refuse his generosity to a stranger.

As tents were erected all over the former battlefield for the captains of the many companies, Legolas and Gimli sat with Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, Eomer, and Gandalf, and together about a small fire they counseled and discussed the morning's imminent proceedings. Aragorn had asked that the captains go to the fore with him as he went to accept his crown and enter his city. Imrahil, Eomer, Gandalf, accepted his request, but Legolas and Gimli and the twins declined.

"In our place, have the halflings stand, Aragorn," said Gimli.

"Never before have these words been uttered by myself, but i must speak in truth: the Dwarf is right. We will be behind you, Aragorn, but our time has ended. With morning begins formally the Fourth Age, an age of Men."

"Many times have you heard me say, _gwador-nin_, Legolas is right," said Elladan with a slightly sad smile. "It is for you to go forth, and though we will remain in your surroundings, we shall not stand forth, but the halflings shall."

"It would be so no matter your decision, _muindyr_." Elrohir said, reading his adopted brother's thoughts. "Our time is ending, you know that well. Now it is you who must strengthen arda and restore the glory of Numenor."

Aragorn was silent and looked upward to the stars for some while before he responded. "Very well," he said slowly, and with much thought. "Prince Imrahil, King Eomer, Gandalf, the four Hobbits, and i shall go forth in the morning. But do not forget, i wholly expect you all to remain in Minas Tirith as long as you may wish."

Aragorn rose then and went away separately from all the others gathered there. Before he had gone far, though, Elrohir halted him, giving to him a small slip of paper with elvish Tengwar inscribed on it.

"That is from adar. He said i should give it to you the night before you accepted the crown. I am unbelievably proud of you."

Aragorn read the message in a soft voice, "_Et Eärello Endorenna utulien, sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar, tenn' Ambar-metta._" He looked up and locked eyes with his brother, seeing in them Elrond's meaning and he and Elrohir silently embraced as brothers. Then Aragorn went to find the four Hobbits to ask them if they would indeed stand forth with him come morning. Their voices were heard from inside his tent.

"How did you know that we are Hobbits?" he overheard Merry inquire. "Everyone we've met so far seems to be under the impression that we are children of Men."

"Or Orcs," Pippin cut in in his usual jovial manner causing Lómëmir to laugh at the thought.

"Any who would mistake a Hobbit for an Orc must certainly be rather secluded from the happenings of the world," said she, rather surprised that they were serious.

Merry and Pippin exchanged knowing glances. "Well, they were, before we got there," said Merry mysteriously and not with a little air of pride.

"Ah... _Enyd_?" Lómëmir said, guessing Merry's reference.

Merry only returned a puzzled look, and was even more so puzzled at Frodo's sudden laughter.

"That's elvish for Ents, i think. Is it Lómëmir?" said Frodo.

She nodded, an astonished smile on her lips. "I didn't know Hobbits were practiced in Sindarin."

"Most aren't, but you see, my uncle was no ordinary Hobbit and I've learnt a great deal from him." In Frodo's voice a certain longing could be heard for home and older days that he knew would never be the same.

"You didnt tell us how you knew we were Hobbits though," Merry said again, sensing his cousin's sadness and trying to change the subject.

"I saw one before, some years ago. He was traveling through Mirkwood, where i dwelt at the time. But what i found most strange was that he was with a pack of naugrim. That still could not have prepared me for seeing here an elf and a dwarf travel together in companionship. And though i was very interested in learning more about this new being, i think King Thranduil was more interested in keeping him and his company... preoccupied."

"You're talkin' about Mr. Bilbo!" Sam exclaimed, speaking up for the first time since they'd gathered in the King's tent.

Lómëmir's smile seemed to light their small space as she had taken quite an liking for the halflings. "Yes, Sam, that was the name Gandalf told to me when i asked him later. Then you know him? But he must be very old by now."

"Know him?! He's Mr. Frodo's own uncle who he spoke about just then." Sam said, very proud of his connection to Bilbo's tale.

"Incredible," Lómëmir said in wonder. "Gandalf was certainly correct, Hobbits are indeed amazing creatures!"

"Amazing, valiant, and worthy of all honor, for it is because of halflings that we are here still this day and the shadow dispelled," spoke Aragorn in a earnest tone, entering the tent. "And it is for those reasons that i would request that you four stand forth with me tomorrow when i accept my... destiny," he said, choosing his words carefully.

Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin all agreed that they would be more than honored to stand with him and there was a noticeable contentedness that filled the man who would King. He was finally accepting that no matter what his status in the world, his friends would always be there for him.

When the smallest four of the six in the tent had exited, Lómëmir beheld Aragorn differently. Aragorn seemed to notice and wanted to deflect the question he could feel coming and so turned to leave. "I will go forth come morning, híril-nin, but know that you have my leave to stay here as long..." he trailed off, rethinking what he was about to invite her to. "Now that i give it second thought, that would not be much of an offering to a wood elf. Know instead that you have the welcome of Minas Tirith always. I know that you are keen to meet with Steward Faramir as soon as possible, you do not have to wait for me to enter the gates before you do so. I understand that one must go where their needs drive them."

"Thank you for your compassionate hospitality, but i have waited this long and i think it best that i take some rest before speaking with him," Lómëmir said truthfully.

"I appreciate that entirely. I, myself, had better get some of that rest every one is speaking of." The former ranger smiled, forcing himself to stifle a yawn. "I only want to be certain that you know you have my leave to speak with the Steward when you may."

She nodded. "I am impressed that you have yet to ask me what my urgency is. Most i have encountered seem very impatient with my hesitancy to let on."

"I understand a thing or two about secret quests, hiril Lómëmir," Aragorn said matter-of-factly.

"And i understand a thing or two about secret lineages, _aran_ Aragorn," she replied after a moment, having realized that their secrets were not wholly different.

Aragorn only smirked. "So you found me out," he said with a sigh.

Lómëmir grinned. "It would have been impossible to hide with the coming of day. Why did you not simply tell me?"

Aragorn shook his head, feeling slightly guilty. "It is rare anymore that i meet someone who doesnt drop to their knees upon meeting me. I guess you were the last person i felt my old self around."

"And why do you feel that your self will change when you take up the Crown of Gondor?" Lómëmir questioned.

Aragorn was still mildly discomfited, but still he was relieved that she did not beg his pardon for something immediately. "Now that it comes to it, i am not sure that there will be any change. I was afraid for nearly 70 years of just that, and i have run from my inheritance for that reason. But now it is my hope that i will not only remain myself but that i will be able to use this position to the greater good." Aragorn wondered just what she herself knew of "secret lineages", but decided to save his questions for later. It was true that he did need sleep, soon. He departed from the tent and Lómëmir herself fell quickly into a restful sleep.


	9. In the White Tower

As morning dawned Lómëmir woke to the sound of many people moving about in the camp, preparing for the formal coronation that would take place. As she lay still she could also hear the sound of many more people bustling about within Minas Tirith. She chanced a look to the world outside the tent she could not see any she recognized, until Gimli came into view.

The dwarf bowed briefly to her. "My lady, i am told that should you wish to stand with your fellow elves, and myself, you may follow me. We are with the ranks of Dol Amroth."

"I shall follow you, Gimli," she said turning back into the tent momentarily. She came out bearing the small pack she had carried with her.

As they approached the company at the fore stood Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas, all arrayed in finery. Legolas wore a tunic of the same silver shade as Lómëmir's gown, whilst the twins were both attired in the darker shades of Rivendell.

Legolas smiled to Lómëmir, inclining his head as she joined them. "I am glad that you will enter the White City with us, my lady. It is a comfort knowing that i am not the only wood elf here today," he said with a grin at the twins, who also nodded their greetings to Lómëmir.

Together they stood and watched as Aragorn, Gandalf, King Eomer, Price Imrahil, and the Hobbits went forward and were met by Faramir, who had come forward from the crowds who stood all around the wall of the city. Lómëmir listened as after having received his crown from Gandalf, Aragorn uttered the words Elendil had so many long years before. The cheers of joy and celebration were great and seemed to sound all over Pelennor between Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. It was then that Aragorn walked out ahead of all others and the crowds before the city parted and he passed the gate for the first time as King of Gondor and Anor, such as had not been for years unremembered. All companies gathered followed after him into the city and eventually dispersed as they would. Friends of Aragorn followed him to the citadel and were feasted and given the shelter of his own home for whatever rest they had need of. It was after this feast that Lómëmir spoke with Faramir when she found him looking out over the city and the westering sun.

She too stood quietly watching the sun sink to the horizon before she spoke gently. "My lord Faramir -"

Faramir started at the sound of another's voice. He had not noticed her presence as she had not made any sound approaching. He did recognize her as having entered in with the elves and dwarf at the fore of the Dol Amroth band. He bowed slightly to her.

In return she inclined her head. "I am sorry for not speaking sooner, i have spent but little time, in my accounting, in the company of mortals."

Faramir shook his head, a faint smile tracing his features as he pulled himself away from his many thoughts. "Ordinarily i would have noticed such a beautiful lady, it is i who offers the apology. In what way might i be of your service, híril-nin?"

"There is but one way you might aid me, my lord. I pray that you knew one who fought in your company not so long ago. His name was Vaneldur."

Faramir remained inexpressive momentarily, having to reach back past much darkness to the days when the defense of Osgiliath was his highest concern. "Vaneldur was from Dol Amroth, he was brave and strong but also understanding and knowledgeable. He was one of my finest warriors. I wanted to name him my second in command, but my father.... Why do you ask of him, lady?"

Lómëmir was temporarily unable to respond. Hearing of Vaneldur from someone who had known him proved more than she thought it might. Faramir read this in her and understood.

"Then you are Lómëmir," he said, guessing that she was the one who Vaneldur had spoken of so very tenderly.

"I am," was Lómëmir's only reply.

"I had heard that he fought at Pelennor, but i have heard naught beyond that of him," Faramir said almost apologetically.

Lómëmir's silence was broken only then by her tears. "I must find him, Faramir. For good or ill, i must know...."

"My lady," Faramir embraced her, empathizing the fear she felt. "You have all the time from now to the end of days to wonder if you do not find out, who could wish that on anyone? I will assist you however i may."

"You are a great man, Faramir," Lómëmir said, regaining some composure by Faramir's empathy. "You have a compassion that is hard to come by in the realms of mortal man."

"It has not always served me well, my lady, but i know, too, that there are times when such is my greatest gift. I thank you for your considerate words, you yourself are rare among the Eldar."

Lómëmir was about to give him her thanks when she was cut off by a shout on the level of the city below.

"My liege Eomer!" called a strong voice to the man walking ahead of him, returning to the quarters provided his sister.

"What is it Erkenbrand? Can it not wait?" asked the King of Rohan, slightly annoyed. He wanted to see his sister, having heard that she was quite well again. He was in no mood to be trifling with more troubles.

"I think that you will want to receive this word, my lord." Then he spoke again at Eomer's sharp glance. "The prisoner is recaptured."

Those last words grabbed Lómëmir's attention and she rushed to the edge of balcony to catch sight of the prisoner referred to. As her eyes found him he spoke in a low voice.

"I am not your subject and this is not your kingdom. Further, i am no criminal."

At the sound of his voice Lómëmir faltered so slightly that only an elf could perceive it, as Legolas had. He stepped out to her, placing a hand on her shoulder in concern and looking into her eyes. What he saw there was months of fear washed away in a matter of seconds, and one single tear drop.

"Lómëmir?"

She could not assure him that she was well before the White Wizard joined them as well. "My lady, i must speak to you," said the old wizard in a tone that meant everyone else should be gone.

Lómëmir shook her head though. "I know, Mithrandir. I know..." she said before going away with Gandalf.

Legolas seemed surprised to see so much of the light of the Eldar returned to Lómëmir so quickly. He, as yet, did not know what it was that she sought in Minas Tirith, but he reasoned that Faramir held whatever answer she needed. He nodded to the Steward in thankfulness. "It is no small task to assist an Elf of the Woodland Realm as you have so done."

Faramir smiled slightly. "Thank me not, Legolas of Mirkwood. Rather, thank the Eorlingas." He still had trouble accepting much generosity within the White City, it was not something he was accustomed to. The two exchanged quick bows before Faramir went quickly down to the next level, leaving Legolas to wonder what in the name of Elbereth the Rohirrim could have done to restore Lómëmir's life so.


	10. Battle of Wills

"Lord Eomer," Faramir said a little louder than was really necessary, just to make sure he had his full attention.

Eomer turned to regard the Steward. It was then that Vaneldur also beheld him. "My captain," the man of Dol Amroth said, attempting to bow to him, difficult as it was as he was held by two soldiers.

"Silence!" commanded one, throwing an arm to his chest.

"You bow to a captain of Ithilien before the King of Rohan?" asked the other menacingly.

Faramir's rage at these actions was barely contained. "Unhand that soldier, he is of my own company."

But Eomer would not allow it. "This man stands in treason of the rule of Theoden. He is my prisoner before your soldier."

"He is a soldier of Gondor, not subject to the laws of Rohan," Faramir practically shouted. He had set aside the fact that he was originally helping Lómëmir. This had become personal to him.

"It matters not, Steward Faramir. And tell me not that the rule of Theoden has ended and so with it all crimes against it."

"What does Rohan understand of treason? Theoden's own words were treacherous to his people for a long time. You yourself have tasted that bitterness," Faramir said, making sure that his last words struck home. The did not have the effect Faramir guessed.

Eomer stepped dangerously close to the Steward. "Your own words could be considered treachery against my kingdom."

"I heard Saruman's power was ended by Mithrandir. How does it still linger within you?" Faramir said tersely.

Eomer's eyes widened at the remark and he drew his sword. As Faramir in turn drew his own a strong voice halted them both.

"Gentlemen!" Aragorn said, more as a command than a greeting. "Have we not had enough of this? Does darkness still shadow these kingdoms?"

Standing with Aragorn was Gandalf and the two Sindarin elves. Eomer glared at Lómëmir. "Do not think you will change his fate again."

Legolas took a protective step in front of her. "What of your own fate, Lord Eomer? With no more caution than you now possess, i see little for it."

"Legolas, sidh," Aragorn said sternly but with a gentle hand of restraint to his friend's shoulder.

Gandalf just shook his head, knowing that if these two tempers were unleashed again there would be little any could do to restrain them. He saw in both Eomer and Legolas that the stress and readiness to fight had not completely dissipated yet. "Perhaps, Aragorn, these parties should come to the citadel where this matter may be calmly worked out between reasonable lords?" Gandalf suggested strongly.


	11. The Inquisition

Within a gleaming room in the citadel sat all those who were involved in the earlier argument as well as Prince Imrahil, Elladan, Elrohir, and Gimli. The room was lofty and all in a pale grey marble. The breeze flowed freely through the high arches along the outer walls. Stately and finely carved where the appointments of the rather simply furnished room.

As Aragorn entered and closed the doors Eomer stood to address him.

"Please remain seated, Lord Eomer, for now at least," Aragorn requested effectively.

"You realize of course, Lord Aragorn, that there are three here who have no interest in this discussion."

"Interest is a strange thing," Elladan said in a voice which mirrored Elrond's.

"All who are here i have requested to be here, Eomer, that there may be no secrets or misunderstandings between allies and friends. All have agreed to that and that such is the best course." Aragorn was amazed that already weighty issues between kingdoms were his as king to sort out. He was, in that time, more than thankful for his years in Rivendell learning from his foster father.

"Now," he continued, "let me be sure that i understand this matter correctly," a phrase that he had heard Elrond utter more times than were countable.

"At the heart of this matter is Vaneldur, son of Cirlon of Dol Amroth," he said nodding toward the young man who was still kept close between two guards of Rohan. Vaneldur remained impassive but nodded to the King in respect.

"Also involved, by association, are Eomer, King of Rohan, Faramir, Steward of Gondor, and the Lady Lómëmir, most recently of Mirkwood," he said, nodding to each as they did in return.

"Very well, then we have established the key players. Let us begin act one. Vaneldur, if you will, tell us of how you know each of the other three. Neither myself nor anyone else will interrupt you with comment or question, and i do bid you to speak freely. As i said, there can be no secrets or lies among those who would be friends."

"I would not speak untruth to you, my sovereign and king," Vaneldur said sincerely. Aragorn nodded and Vaneldur resumed his disclosure. "I know the Lady Lómëmir of Mirkwood because, although Dol Amroth is my home and the swan my Prince-standard, in my youth my father was called to service in Northern Ithilien. He took my brothers and me to our northern borders and instructed us to go to Laketown where my father's brother made his home. My uncle had dealings with the folk of the Great Wood and many times i accompanied him at his request. Such was how i came to know the lady, she abode in the forest among an elven home."

Aragorn turned his gaze to Lómëmir as Vaneldur finished. "You can verify that, Lómëmir?" he asked her gently.

"I can and do, my lord," she said with resolve.

"Please carry on, Vaneldur," Aragorn requested.

"When i heard from my father's messages of the Shadow lengthening, war coming so near to my people, and the treason of Isengard, i left my brothers and rode southward, as i would have gone to Dol Amroth to fight for my Prince," he said regarding Imrahil.

"On the way there i was intercepted near edge of Fangorn by men of the Rohirrim. I was taken to Edoras to declare before the king my intention of destination. In Meduseld, however, no matter how i pled my case that i was returning to my home in Dol Amroth, it was believed that i was an agent of Saruman. The king's own counselor went so far as to accuse me of stealing a horse of the Mark. I refused these charges time and again fervently until i was imprisoned by this ill-spoken counselor for saying that it was not King Theoden who ruled Rohan, which was called speaking treason. If the Lady Lómëmir had not ridden after me i might still be imprisoned. As i understand it, the riders of the Rohirrim were sent away and so less guard was put to prisoners of the kingdom."

Here Vaneldur again paused, sensing that Aragorn would wish to confirm that with Eomer. Aragorn took the opportunity to do so.

"All of that is true to my knowledge, Lord Aragorn, with the exception of the reason for his imprisonment. At the time that that occurred i was bringing my cousin home to his deathbed, but i had been told that the reason for his imprisonment was that he actually struck with force against my uncle the king." Eomer said, half disbelieving Vaneldur's words, yet now wondering himself why he actually believed anything that was the doing of Gríma.

Aragorn nodded to Vaneldur to continue.

"Lastly, my Lord, i came to serve in the company of the Rangers of Ithilien, under the command of Captain Faramir, after my release," he said with a glance to Lómëmir. "I went to Ithilien to find my father and warn him that the rule of Rohan was precarious at best. At my insistence, the lady took my horse and rode back to the shelter of Mirkwood. I found Captain Faramir and his men near Henneth Annûn. It was then that i learned of my father's death and then that i pledged to Faramir that i would take up his place."  
"Thank you, Vaneldur," said Aragorn. "Faramir?"

Faramir nodded. "That is all truth as i know it to be, my liege."

"Our one matter of dispute, then, is the grounds on which Vaneldur is considered prisoner of Rohan." Aragorn turned to Eomer. "I must tell you though, that in as much as this is in doubt because of the involvement of Gríma, i am rather hesitant to accept it as a valid argument."

"I understand that, Aragorn," Eomer rejoined quickly. "But the fact is that Theoden is dead and can no longer tell us what did transpire. I trust Wormtongue less than any here, but in my mind there is slightest chance that for once he spoke in veracity."

"I doubt it very much that Theoden would have been able to shed light on this matter even if he had lived, Eomer," Gandalf said. "I further doubt that by that time Wormtongue had the ability to speak truth unless it was to aid Saruman in the fall of Rohan."

"Aragorn, my lord," Faramir began, "if i may speak for the character of Vaneldur."  
"I will listen to all, Faramir. Please do," the King answered.

"As i told Lady Lómëmir this evening, Vaneldur has been one of the finest warriors i have ever had the honor to stand beside. Not only is his skill unmatched, but he brings a sense of knowledge and a sense that ours is the fight for the good of all Middle-earth. He is most worthy in every way that i have known him. In fact, it was my intention to name Vaneldur my second in command when the rank was in need of replacement."

Aragorn considered this. "Why did you not confer that honor upon him, Faramir?"

Faramir forced his face to remain emotionless. "Denethor overrode my decision. His reason was that Vaneldur was not enough like my brother to be allowed such a place of duty."

"Denethor's mind was far from right, especially after Boromir's death," Gandalf said to Aragorn, yet also to Faramir in a comforting way that none other perceived.

"Vaneldur, tell me what transpired from the time you joined Faramir's men, if you will," Aragorn called for.

Vaneldur nodded. "Yes, of course, my king. Almost immediately after pledging my weapons to Faramir there was a band of Easterlings in Ithilien which we brought down, we then pulled back to the...-"

Vaneldur paused before giving the location of their keep, he looked to Faramir to allow him to disclose such. Faramir simply nodded his approval.

"To the cave beyond the falls. Some men ahead of myself had taken two small people, Hobbits if i am not mistaken. I know little of what became of them, though, as i had a number of other duties to perform then. When we left Ithilien we returned to Minas Tirith and were set upon by winged Nazgul. We reached the city but before long we were sent out again to Osgiliath. Two days after, Captain Faramir was wounded and we retreated, those of us who were left. That next day the city was besieged and we fought through night under the direction of Gandalf. It was during that fighting that i received a wound that rendered me unable to wield a weapon, thus useless to our cause, and was sent to the Houses of Healing. I was tended there and able to leave shortly, but by then victory was ours. I heard then of the intent to ride to the Morannan and i had all intent to stay with my comrades and make the northward march. When you permitted leave to men on the sixth day's march, i departed. It was not born of fear of Mordor, i would have slain every orc in the Gorgoroth if such was in my power. Rather, i left there because i had heard that there had been attacks from the forces of Dol Guldur in Mirkwood, and fear for fate of Lómëmir was too terrible in my heart for me to bear without some action."

Vaneldur looked at her and saw in her eyes that the same fear he bore for her she had born for him. His gaze lowered then as he again addressed his monarch. "Please know, most merciful king, that i would never have deserted your ranks if you had not given men leave to do so."

"Think not lowly of yourself, Vaneldur," said Aragorn, "but rather highly. Any aid you have given to the Woodland Realm in Gondor's name is to be shown great gratitude."  
Legolas allowed a trace of a smile to cross his features in agreement with Aragorn. "I will tell my lord of your assistance, Vaneldur. I am sure that he will be deeply appreciative."

"Lords of the West," Eomer said with a somewhat haughty sigh, "this narrative is all very interesting. We could all sit here through the night and tell of our own ways through the last months, but are we not here to establish one thing only?"

Aragorn's hand found itself at his temples which had begun to throb dully. "Gandalf, Faramir, Eomer, Imrahil, please come with me." Aragorn rose and lead them out of the lofty chamber into a smaller room, he closed the door and none of the words spoken thereafter could be heard, even by the elves assembled.


	12. No Other Choice

As the chief captains left and all were silent, Lómëmir rose soundlessly and moved toward Vaneldur. He too stood and stepped closer to her. Vaneldur reached for her hands but the two were pulled apart by Vaneldur's guardians.

Legolas instinctively drew forth his bow and instantaneously notched an arrow. "Lay hands on the Lady again and you will regret it," he said lowly.

"Loose that arrow and you will regret it, elf," retorted one soldier.

"Have any less respect for the Eldar, let alone the Prince of Mirkwood, and you will both regret it," said Elrohir addressing the two soldiers he as stepped up to Legolas's side. He was closely followed by Elladan, whose grey eyes, like his brother's, flashed passionately .

Gimli was already standing stubbornly beside his Sindarin friend, wielding an axe and a glare that would scare an orc.

Within the closed room tempers were restrained little better than without. The moment the door was closed Eomer advanced on Aragorn. "You really plan to leave it at that?" he asked in a tone louder than the Dúnadan was willing to put up with.

"Eomer, this is all a matter of pride with you. You personally have no evidence of anything done by that man. You said yourself that all you know is what Gríma told you. I will not accept the word of one allied with Saruman as testimony against one of Gondor's people. I know further that this all stems from a desire you have to see all avenged of your uncle and cousin's deaths. While i am sorry for your losses, the Valar know we have all suffered as much, some of us more. The reason Numenor failed was that men feared death. They came to distrust in what is set ahead for us afterward, and they came to distrust the immortal. I will not brook those same divisions in my kingdom. It was Sauron's counsel that ruined Numenor, and now together we have seen Sauron ruined. I would see the real glory of Numenor return if but a little here."

At that Eomer fell silent, Aragorn's wisdom and knowledge of things that most had long forgotten was something he had not the ability to riposte.

"Aragorn, that is a great matter to take to hand," Gandalf said slowly.

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Im iston, mellon-nin," he said, perhaps purposely using the tongue of the elves to prove his oneness with them. "Now, Eomer, i do indeed plan to leave the matter of Vaneldur's fate in your hands. I do so because i know you and i have faith that you are a man, a king, of justice and not irrational pride. If you seek to do your uncle honor, than choose for yourself the paths of right. Pride goeth before a fall, Eomer, as you may have noticed of late."

None rose to leave then until Eomer did so.

"Eothain, Halbéarn, release the prisoner," Eomer commanded walking into the grey hall before leaving. They complied and followed their king out.

Relief washed over Vaneldur in a way that seemed as beneficial as a long sleep would have been to the much-traveled mortal. Immediately he humbly knelt before Aragorn in thanks for his fairness, mercy, and sound judgment. Elladan and Elrohir both caught the flicker of sadness in their foster brother's eyes.

Aragorn rested a hand on Vaneldur's shoulder. "Rise, son of Gondor, you need not kneel to me here," he said, his voice filled with understanding. "You have already proven your loyalty."

Faramir stood beside Vaneldur then. "Since it seems that my finest fighter is free again to be called such, with your permission my lord, i would like to confer the title i mentioned earlier."

Aragorn smiled. "Consider it done, Faramir. Though it is not my permission you must ask though, but Vaneldur's."

Faramir turned to fair man. "What say you, Vaneldur?"

"Must i say at once, Lord Faramir?" he asked, feeling somewhat weary.

Faramir smiled understandingly. "Of course not. Give it a few days. In fact, you should first of all pay a visit to old Ioreth. You've a few scratches that could be taken care of." The wink he threw in Aragorn's direction was caught by the King.

"Vaneldur, if you do go to the Houses of Healing, please escort the lady Lómëmir there as well. I treated her wounds in Ithilien, but i would rest better knowing that Ioreth had a chance to look them over as well." Aragorn tried to conceal the glint of their conspiracy in his eyes.

Vaneldur nodded to Faramir and bowed to Aragorn, pressing his hand to his chest. He crossed the room then and wordlessly offered Lómëmir his arm, his eyes doing all the speaking for him. Hers reciprocated and together they left for the level one lower.

It didnt take an elf to perceive that the moment they exited the room and closed the door behind them, they shared a long awaited kiss.

"How many more such pardonings will i go through in only the next few days? Do you see now," Aragorn said to Legolas, "why i have so avoided this day for the last 70 years? "

The Sindarin elf smiled to his long time friend. "How long have i eluded the title i was born to?"

"That hardly counts, Legolas," Elrohir teased. "Everyone knows Thranduil will never give up his crown and so you have nothing to worry about."

Elrohir's comment even managed to coax a smile from the white wizard.

"And to think that tales of the elder days always tell how kingdoms and lordships were so vied for!" added Gimli, highly amused.

"As of this morning the elder days are no more, Gimli. An age of mortals is coming to pass," Gandalf mused.

"Aye, and one we shall lay the stonework for. You might remember that to your successors!" Gimli said to Aragorn rather purposely.

While Legolas simply shook his head, slight trace of a grin to be found mostly in his eyes, Aragorn could not contain his smile. "You have my word, Gimli, that the dwarves will absolutely not become a forgotten people. Not until the end of days, while my line remains."

Gimli seemed satisfied with that answer.

Elladan's features alone of all remained grim. "What troubles you, gwador?" Aragorn asked.

Elladan ignored his foster brother and instead spoke to his blood brother. "She is not Peredhil, is she?"

Elrohir shook his head. "She has not our choice, my brother."

They spoke quietly and only to each other. Neither Faramir, Imrahil, nor Gimli could make out their conversation, but Legolas, Aragorn, and Gandalf could well enough.

There was a sorrow in the eyes of the five who understood what those words meant. It was something they had not considered in the heat of the arguments that had ensued.

"Aragorn, perhaps you should speak to them," said Elladan heavy-heartedly.

"No, gwador. Believe me, they already know. They are not in need of me telling them that which is surely already painful enough for them."

"Aragorn is right, El'," Legolas said, not actually knowing to which twin he was speaking. "They should be allowed this happiness will it still may be."


	13. Of Elves and Men

By the time Vaneldur and Lómëmir reached the Houses of Healing night was deep upon the world and the clear sky allowed every star in sight its full exhibit. Neither of them were willing to go back indoors on such a night, so instead they went together to the garden and spent the night in the company of a million of the gems of the Valar and the radiance of each other.

There they stayed until the rising of the sun woke them. They went out from the garden, agreeing that they could then bear to part with the open air, and likely each other, for a short time while the healers had their chance with their small wounds.

As they were entering the Houses several riders came down the path quickly, only just missing them. Lómëmir did not fail to notice that it was King Eomer riding at the fore.

"It looks as if the Rohirrim are leaving the city," Vaneldur said in a rather glad tone.

"They can stay away from the city as long as they like, i shall not miss their ever-prideful presence," Lómëmir said stridently.

Vaneldur smiled to her though. "That is over now. You heard Captain Faramir and the King, i am no longer hunted, a free man again, one they wish to appoint Second-in-Command of the Ithilien Rangers."

"Will you accept that position?" Lómëmir asked, trying to sound casual.

Vaneldur was quiet and looking over Pelennor to the ruined Osgiliath. "That depends on you, Lómëmir."

"It should not. You must do what is best for you, i would not have you change your course because of me. You must live all of your time as you will, not as someone else wills. Mortal men have but a little time each to enjoy this realm, and wither then, none can say. The gift of death to mortals is that one may understand life and adore every breath you take here and every sight your eyes ever see, every sound you perceive, every touch, every taste, every scent, and most of all, every stirring of your heart."

As Vaneldur considered her words and the depth of her eyes Legolas approached the Houses of Healing accompanied by a man dressed in the manner of the Dunedain rangers. Though summer was very nearly upon them, he wore his hood up and kept his coat about him.

Legolas silently ushered them toward the garden, away from the bustle of Minas Tirith's return to daily life. Then and only then did the man accompanying him shed his cloak. Immediately Vaneldur made to drop to his knee, but Lómëmir's hand on his shoulder and Aragorn's slight grin stopped him.

"My leige?" Vaneldur questioned, more concerned than confused.

Legolas and Aragorn glanced at each other before erupting into laughter. "Seventy years later the same trick actually still works," Aragorn mused.

"I have been sneaking Estel out of palaces and lesser places since we first met," Legolas explained to the other two with a pleased smile. "It is something i believe we have perfected."

"The first time it was easy enough, and you can't even take credit for the idea, Legolas," Aragorn half-argued.

"You were lucky i was there when the idea was first tried by the Halfling, else wise you would still be locked in that cell this very day!"

Aragorn shook his head and decided to ignore Legolas for the time being, they both knew the details of this semi-argument well enough by now. "I really only came out to find out how Ioreth treated you two. In all honesty, i didnt quite think right when i suggested you see her, Lómëmir. I dont think she has ever remedied an elf before and... well, she didnt give you anything did she? Who knows what effect the herb master's medicines might have on an elf."

"You have nothing to worry about, aratan. We were only just about to enter the Houses when you intercepted us. We did rest well in your garden last night, though. I, for my part, was hardly willing to remain indoors on such an evening."

"That is well then. Timing has always been on our side, eh Legolas?" Aragorn laughed. "Come up to the Citadel with us, please. I have received a gift from the Woodland Realm of some impressive bearing, one that i would share with my friends."

The King seemed to be in quite good spirits and so they went along gladly, wondering what gift Aragorn could have received from Mirkwood of such excellence. Legolas and Lómëmir knew well enough of Thranduil's vast hordes and they equally doubted that the elven king would lightly part with even the smallest bit of it. One thing Legolas was rather sure his father had not gifted Aragorn was a bottle of his prized Dorwinion wine, and in fact he speculated that it was entirely possible that Thranduil had sent him one of Mirkwood's spiders.

As they entered the Citadel, Aragorn led them past the throne room and on toward his own chambers. The guards stationed throughout wondered exactly how their King was coming in when none had seen him go out. Most of them reasoned that this King who had spent so much time in the company of elves must surely have acquired some "powers." They inferred this conclusion mostly as a way of canceling out the thought that they had "lost" their King right from under their very noses.

Into Aragorn's living quarters they followed. Elladan and Elrohir were already there, having done a little quick "redecorating," they were now much more comfortable guests of their adopted brother than when they arrived. The room had taken on, as much as was possible for what there was to be worked with, a feel almost of Imladris. Certainly it was a more inviting place for an elf than previously. On a table near a window was a bottle and several extraordinarily fine goblets.

Legolas eyed the bottle very suspiciously. "Aragorn, that isn't what i think it, is it?"

Aragorn too sized up the vessel. "Why? What do you think it is? Water from the Enchanted River?"

"I am only saying that it is a possibility. It has happened before, I think you all will recall," the elf prince said to the twins and their mortal brother, referring to a small "political" incident between his realm and theirs some years ago.

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" the King said, pouring a glass and taking a slow, savoring sip.

Elladan moved closer and Elrohir's gaze narrowed. "Feeling tired, gwador?" one asked.

"Very tired, but only because of the sleeping conditions here. This is the most excellent thing i have ever tasted," he said, filling the other goblets for his guests. "Vaneldur, are you familiar with the wine of the Eldar?"

"Only by reputation, your Majesty. But i need no drink in truth. To be called to the King's company is more than i ever imagined."

"Nonsense. There are many greater than i due to arrive before too long. Have a glass, but have a care as well," Aragorn said with a wink, passing Vaneldur the mithril-wrought wineglass.

"Do not worry about it, Vaneldur. If the stuff proves over-strong our brother will be able to revive you," Elrohir said, mostly at Aragorn.

When Legolas took a first sip he froze still and reached for the bottle, examining it carefully. The other four in the room became mildly alarmed, but Lómëmir understood.

"I believe this is what you are looking for?" she asked, holding forth the bottle's cork which was on the windowsill.

Legolas's expression was of complete astonishment to see the tengwar "D" rune impressed into the cork. "My father sent an actual bottle from the Dorwinion reserve?"

"It looks as if your father wants to really reinforce this new alliance, here and now, mellon-nin," Elrohir half teased.

"As though _my_ Gondor would ever turn away the call of Taur e-Ndaedelos," Aragorn said grinning with a hand on Legolas's shoulder.

Legolas returned the gesture of brotherhood saying, "He needed not send his prized concoction to you to prove our allegiance."

At that Aragorn laughed, despite knowing that Legolas's words were serious and sincere. "I think perhaps your King would have thanked you to impart that to him before he had this sent. But now that he has done, we should dispose of it all the quicker. Another glass my lady?" he said pouring Lómëmir more to drink before she could answer. He nearly poured another glass for Vaneldur until he realized that the young man was already sound asleep.

"Perhaps Thranduil did put a little enchantment into this fine mix?" Aragorn wondered aloud.

"No, my friend, this is no tainted wine. Vaneldur has simply reached his limit," Lómëmir said peacefully, meaning not only his drinking limit, but his physical limit as well.

Aragorn nodded, understanding perfectly. "The more for the rest of us it seems." Ever the good host, the King let no glass go unfilled while they enjoyed one another's company on into early evening. The talk flowed as the wine did, freely and companionably. Each of the five spoke of their own travels past and future. Elladan and Elrohir spoke of remaining in Middle-earth, while Legolas seemed yet undecided. Lómëmir, for her part, knew her time to leave had not quite yet arrived, and she seemed unwilling to go for some while yet. Vaneldur was young and would live a long life, that much she knew. Also she knew that now they were safely reunited, she would not be separated from him again. Legolas said that should he indeed decide to sail into the West, it would not be until the reign of Aragorn son of Arathorn had come to an end.

"And what if one day some lad from Rohan comes to unseat the King of Gondor and i am forced into exile?" Aragorn conjectured, his mind wandering to any thought imaginable after his share of Dorwinion.

"If Rohan ever overthrows Gondor i will flee Middle-earth, brother or no," was Legolas's teasing comeback.

"If that befell I would go via Helcaraxe if no ship there was to bear me," Lómëmir, noticeable conviction in her voice.

"Speaking of Rohan, they are due back here before long, muindyr," Elladan pointed out to Aragorn, who looked like he was about to join Vaneldur in a peaceful, sound sleep.

"_Im iston, im iston... adar norra si er enqui_," Aragorn replied, slipping into elvish as he had a habit of when sleepy.

---

_im iston = i know_

_adar norra si er enquie = roughly, "father rides here even now"_

_i have had this chapter written for a while, but i got started on "Chaos Theory" and it just took off to the point that i didn't get back to this for a while. apologies to my readers who have enjoyed this story. i will be working on this again in the future, but truth be told, probably not till mid-late september._


	14. The Avari

Legolas smiled serenely as Aragorn drifted to sleep and the four Elves chatted about days gone by into the night. After a while the twins decided to get some sleep before they headed out of the city to meet the riders from Rohan. Neither Legolas nor Lómëmir had anything to attend to which would require rest, so they decided to let sleeping mortals lie and headed out for a walk around the benighted White City to star gaze.

Long about the fifth level Legolas stopped suddenly and peered out into the deep night about the city. Lómëmir looked too and saw what the other Elf did: a small faction of Fair People making their way on foot to Minas Tirith along the Anduin. Legolas did not recognize them as people from Mirkwood or Lothlorien and had utterly no idea what kingdom they might represent, for he knew Elrond's people to be some way off yet. Their shield's emblems were unknown to him. They were of a regal blue fixed with a bird of white whose wings transformed into deep green leaves.

Lómëmir had at first taken them as a vanguard for the House of Elrond, who Aragorn knew to be on his way to Minas Tirith. As they drew somewhat closer she came to realize, as has Legolas, that she did not know these Elves.

The two glanced at each other. "Shall we greet them?" Legolas asked Lómëmir.

She nodded. "It might be best. Everyone else is gone to their rest this night, and it would doubtless be offensive to have a greeting from only the guards of a broken gate."

Agreeing, they made their way quickly downward through the tiered city and out across the former battlefield. Meeting the guards of the small group, Legolas bowed respectfully, noting that though he knew not these Elves, they were certainly a regal and skilled people, judging by the insignia and the quality of their effects.

"_Vedui, Thranduilion_," came a masculine but youthful voice from behind the guards, who quickly parted. Stepping forward was an Elf obviously of high rank. He was young-looking and lithe, as are all Elves, but in him was a different quality that neither Legolas nor Lómëmir could exactly ascertain. It might have been his dark hair and brooding expression, though his countenance briefly seemed to turn to one of intrigue as Lómëmir stepped slightly forward. It might also have been the fact that though this Elf seemed to hold a great deal of wisdom that only comes with many years, perhaps more years than even Lord Elrond had known, he held utterly no grief but seemingly much boredom.

Legolas, for his part, was rather surprised that this Elf knew him, but decided to let it pass. Remembering himself to indeed be the son of the King of the Woodland Realm, he returned the greeting to the stranger. Legolas did not understand his own feeling of creeping discretion around this party. Having spoken but two words, this stately-seeming stranger had shown the Mirkwood Prince a good deal indeed, mostly that he knew much and told much less. Loathe to ask, yet moreso to remain unknowing, Legolas cautiously ventured his somewhat annoyed question, "_Mani na essa en le_?"

"_Nan Tar-Morion in Taure-Forambalar_," was the stranger's answer. It served as little enlightenment to either Legolas or Lómëmir, neither of them had heard of the land of Taure-Forambalar. Legolas thought that such a descriptive name might refer to the small clump of trees at the northern end of the Sea of Rhûn, and he asked the self-titled King if that was the land he referred to.

Morion laughed but anyone could tell it was forced laughter. "_Arda-amin a pella Anga-amban_," he said unenthusiastically.

Legolas had personally had enough of this Elf's audacity to speak Quenya when Legolas had made a point to keep his replies and questions in Sindarin. As he was raised, it was the duty of the guest to adapt to the custom of his host, at the very least in speech. Deciding to break from Elven tongue altogether, Legolas spoke now in Westron. "What is your affair in Gondor, King Morion?" he asked as politely as he could manage. As awed as he had been of the strangers craft work, he was quickly losing respect of their etiquette.

"I am come to offer greeting to the great king of Men," Morion said in a somewhat outdated mode of Westron. Legolas thought this group of Elves must have been very removed from the dealings of the world indeed. "A great king he must indeed be, the future of the very world, so they say, to hire a foreign Elf-prince as his guard, and a fair lady as his herald."

Legolas's hand twitched furiously as he instinctively wanted to reach back into his quiver (which he was not wearing) and nock an arrow, so much did this foreign king begin to offend him. Legolas's voice was tight as his bowstring. "Neither i nor the Lady Lómëmir are hired by Aragorn, Lord Morion. We are his friends and merely thought it might be kind to greet strangers into our friend's land."

Morion smiled almost smirkingly, but it lasted no longer than any other emotion he had deigned to exhibit. "As you will, friends of the great king of Men... show us to his halls."

Legolas was fuming as he turned and walked back toward the city. Lómëmir herself was feeling somewhat indignant, but she also had the understanding that these Elves apparently did not know how much the world had changed even since 100 years ago.

Up all seven levels Legolas and Lómëmir walked with the new comers following. Before entering the Citadel, however, Legolas stopped and instructed the company to find their rest for the night. He had decided that he would not invite these outsiders into his best friend's home while he slept. The foreign king looked highly displeased with this, but, naturally, that faded like mist on a sunny morning. Just as Legolas and Lómëmir were about to depart them and return to the Citadel themselves, Morion called out.

"Why, Thranduilion, have you not introduced your fair wife?" he asked, though he sounded as though he really did not care.

At that Legolas blushed noticeably, which only made him angrier with this foreigner. "You must forgive me for not introducing her to you, Lord Morion. However, she is not my wife." Legolas wanted to add something along the line of, "you might have introduced yourself, had you so wished," but he decided that he would keep his outburst to himself, at least until after Aragorn had a chance to meet with the envoy.

Morion decided to ignore what he considered the rude-mannered son of Thranduil, and instead he turned his attention to the exquisite Lómëmir. "My lady," he said with a deep bow, "i am Morion, King of the far wood, and i am utterly at your command." With that Morion swept up Lómëmir's hand and pressed a soft kiss to her slender fingers, glancing up to display a hint of a spark in his green eyes.

Lómëmir could not help but feel rather charmed by this mysterious King, though she did slowly draw her hand back after his gentle greeting in some hesitation. It was then that she realized what she had found strange about these Elves. They did not glow.

ooo

_Vedui, Thranduilion Greetings, son of Thranduil._

_Mani na essa en le What is your name?_

_Nan Tar-Morion in Taure-Forambalar I am King Morion of the Northeast Forest (literally Forest-Northeast)_

_Arda-amin a pella Anga-amban My realm is beyond the Iron Hills._

__

_Yes, friends, i am back from my vacation and all ready to write again. I plan on finishing this story (- hope you all like it so far, hope some of the readers who enjoyed my work on Chaos Theory will hop over and read this too, and i hope the readers who have enjoyed this story aren't too mad at me for finishing Chaos Theory before continuing Immortal Beloved... i promise to make it up to you :) - and then trying my hand at Glor-Ere mild slash, drabbles, if not a whole story. I definitely want to do some POV stuff with those two, just to show just how alike the really are, deep down._

_Fear not, i will be back to picking apart poor Fara's troubled soul before too long too. A sequel to Chaos Theory is brewing in my mind, though i doubt Faramir will be required to face anything as serious as a pissed off Morgoth._


	15. Captains and Kings

_Happy Birthday to Bilbo and Frodo!_

_Promote National Talk Like a Hobbit Day!_

Morning found Legolas hoping dearly that the strange Elves of the night's encounter had decided to leave Minas Tirith for whatever reason. He still did not understand just what made him so adverse to them, but somehow he just felt that he did not trust them. A strange feeling it was to him indeed, ordinarily in his life it had been Noldor Elves saying the same about him and his people.

Joining his friends for a morning meal, at which Lómëmir and Vaneldur were also present, Legolas mentioned but casually the newcomers. Something in his eye told Aragorn not to rush to greet them before Legolas had a chance to speak to him. There was a great deal of talk concerning almost everything else at the table that morning, for new arrivals were really fairly common and nothing unusual since word had gone out about Gondor's new king. With the meal finished the talking continued ever more, particularly from four certain guests of honor for whom talk (and a pipe) was the only thing that could rightly follow a good, full meal.

Slipping away from the gathered, Aragorn motioned for Legolas and Faramir to follow him into his study. Aragorn had a sense that Legolas did not like the Elves who awaited the king's greeting and he wanted to be on alert as much as possible. He thought it best to make Faramir aware of these things as well. He had learned in his years in Rivendell that not all Elves are to be necessarily considered friends, if one ventures too far. Elrond had warned his nomadic son against going beyond the charted realms of Middle-earth and had spoken of a race of Elves who were not really evil in any way, but merely quite strange to most of Middle-earth's generally accepted customs - they certainly had their own ideas. Elrond had spoken in reference of the tale of Eöl and Aredhel, which Aragorn then relayed to his two close friends.

It was then that Legolas also realized that the Elves they encountered had none of the usual light of the Eldar. Legolas decided not to accompany Aragorn when the king left with Faramir to offer, cautiously, the welcome of his kingdom. The Mirkwood Prince rather preferred to have nothing to do with the reclusive Elves who proved so offending to him. He instead went back out to the dining hall, hoping to talk to Lómëmir again. Neither she nor Vaneldur were still about so the Elf resigned himself with lending an ear to his Dwarf friend as he carried on, again, about the quality of Minas Tirith's stonework.

---

Just after he noticed Aragorn steal away to his study, Vaneldur caught Lómëmir's eye enough to intimate they might follow suit. Together they left the Citadel mostly unnoticed. That was until a voice in the shadows called out to Lómëmir.

The smoothed-voiced (yet little spoken) Morion stepped out slowly, as though he did not enjoy the light of the morning sun. He bowed to her and caught her eye as he rose with just the most ephemeral, merest wisp of a smile tracing his lips before his features looked terribly bored and rather taciturn again as he noticed the Mortal standing beside the _elleth_. As a rule, Elves were hard to read to the mortal eye, but this Elf was beyond all others that Vaneldur had met in his travels.

Lómëmir recalled that the foreign king was rather unhappy with her not being introduced last night and so she offered an acquainting of Vaneldur and the Elven ruler. Vaneldur bowed deeply and offered a complimentary Elvish greeting, knowing well enough how to comport himself in the company of Elf-monarchs thanks to his upbringing in his uncle's home. Morion almost, for just a split second, seemed impressed.

At that moment did Aragorn and Faramir come to greet the woodland King and his small troupe. Vaneldur was somewhat relieved that he and Lómëmir were then able to depart them without seeming rude, for he was more than cautious when regarding foreign rulers, particularly of other races. Just as they were turning toward the next level's gate, Faramir called to Vaneldur and stepped aside with him.

"Are you able to meet with Lord Aragorn and i after this evening's meal?" the Steward quietly asked the slightly younger man.

"Yes, of course, my Lord," Vaneldur said, equally as softly.

Faramir nodded with a smile and turned back to the company, noticing that Aragorn was deep in a discourse in Quenya with the fellow king.

The rest of the day passed along without any incident to speak of. Aragorn and Faramir spent the best part of the day in council with Morion, both Mortals unintentionally letting their minds wander in turn from the Elven King's attention in the heat of the Gondorian afternoon. Morion found that much had taken place in the world that he had not been aware of. It was shortly before the forming of the Last Alliance that he had ordered a cessation to the thrush messengers who had been their last real link to the rest of Middle-earth. The Dark Elf could not say that he was sorry to have missed most of the world's dealings, but it was clearly an ostentatious occurrence that these Elves should leave their wood to give tribute to a king of Men.

Both Aragorn and Faramir were unreservedly glad when a guard interrupted to let them know that dinner was served. Naturally, Aragorn requested that Morion join them in their meal, though he only did so as a diplomatic formality. Such was an aspect of his position that he found detestable at best. Fortunately enough the meal went quickly and he was able to excuse himself along with Faramir and Vaneldur for their meeting.

Legolas had disappeared very quickly and quietly after supper and so Lómëmir was left as the only other Elf who might accompany and entertain Morion. The Avari king was not at all averse to her presence, and in fact, he only seemed to smile when she was about. Lómëmir in no way considered herself a proper representative of the great city of Men, but ever the genteel lady, she was happy to show him about the city under the stars as best she could. Morion said very little indeed on their walk as Lómëmir indicated what points of interest Vaneldur had shown her that afternoon. By the time they reached the first level and started back upward, Lómëmir feared that the next six levels were going to be rather dull going, as Morion had yet to converse with her at all. Yet she could feel his intent gaze upon always.

As Lómëmir turned and started off to the next gate up she felt a hand on her arm. Morion's grip was gentle but firm as she turned to face him with sudden apprehension. "Lady Lómëmir," he said in his slow, even tone, "you have enchanted me." He tightened his grip as he felt her trying to step back. "Fear me not, O fair Lady. Rather come with me to my home in the far wood and be my wife, my queen, for you are a regal woman, and surely the most precious jewel in Middle-earth. Such that i would have for my own." Pulling Lómëmir into his arms, he stopped her from protesting with a deep kiss but she finally broke away, her heart pounding with affront, and insisted that he leave her immediately. There was a steely glint in the stranger's eye, but he bowed to her and resumed his bored countenance before submitting to her wishes. Lómëmir turned and went quickly back to the security of the Citadel.

In the courtyard of the White Tree once again Lómëmir recollected her pride and decided not to mention the incident, certainly it had not been a first for her. She would simply forget that it had happened, surely it would not reoccur since she had made clear her repulsion.

She did not see Morion reenter the Citadel to stand at the further end of the courtyard, contemplatively watching the moonlight bathe her, illuminating her red hair against the green and silver gown she wore. The far-away king made up his mind that she would be his queen under star and tree, no matter what it took. He was not to be refused.


	16. The Disappeared

When Lómëmir took to the apartments that Aragorn had granted to her for as long as she wished to stay in Minas Tirith, she did not know that she was followed. The stalking skill of the Elves of Taure-Forambalar surpassed even those of the Mirkwood Elves. Taking note of the location of the rooms where Lómëmir stayed, the infiltrator quickly reported back to his king.

"Well done, Neldor," Morion said. "I think it best if we leave before daybreak. Return to her chamber and give her this," he ordered, holding out a small vial to his guard. "I do not wish my queen to wake frightened before we have returned to the kingdom."

Neldor nodded and complied quickly, returning to Lómëmir where she lay asleep, innocent of the conspiracy to abduct her. The vial of dark liquid was spilt between her lips, ensuring her sleep for the next several days.

As Morion waited for word that the woman he already considered his queen was prepared for their late night departure, Vaneldur happened down the corridor where Morion was leaning against a tree-like column, looking impassive, as always. The young man stopped and gave a respect filled bow and greeting before asking if the king had seen the Lady Lómëmir.

"I have seen her but recently," he replied, disdain for the fair Mortal very nearly edging into his tone. "However, i am told that she has taken to her rest for the night and that she can not be disturbed." Those two sentences were the most Morion had spoken to a Mortal other than Aragorn in his all his many, many years. Even Faramir had received nothing more than a short greeting and several critical glances, which highly offended the Steward after so many years of receiving just the same from his own father.

Vaneldur sighed and nodded, politely excusing himself from the Elf-king's presence to head, disappointed, to his own chamber. He had wanted to find Lómëmir straight away to tell her of his good news. He had just been conferred by the King and Faramir the position of Captain of Ithilien, which included spacious quarters for him and his family at the home which Faramir was planning in Emyn Arnen.

The mention of appointments for his family renewed in Vaneldur the wish to ask Lómëmir to be his bride. Even though he was well aware that such a union might prove recklessness in the end, he knew that his heart would take no other all his days. His one real concern was that she might suffer age or death if wed to a Mortal. Vaneldur would have been content to only court her for the rest of his life rather than see any measure of pain in her ever.

That night as Vaneldur lay wide awake in his bed thinking of the lady of his dreams, he found he could keep his profession to himself no longer. He went to Lómëmir's chamber, and though it was the middle of the night, the heart may care not for propriety when it is filled to capacity. For the second time he was disappointed, though, when she did not answer either his knock or his soft call.

He guessed that she had left her bed to gaze at the sparkling heavens as she oft was wont, and he resigned himself to wait for the next few hours until daybreak to find her again and speak to her. As he sat at his own window watching the moonset over Gondor, happiness filled him as his thoughts continued to center on his future with his belovéd. At that morning's fast breaking, however, his happiness was replaced with anxiety to hear that none had seen his lady since the evening before and that he had been the last one to see the King of Taure-Forambalar.

By the time it was realized that the entire envoy of the Avari and all of their things were gone, as was Lómëmir, the missing had already reached Henneth Annûn and expected to reach Rhovanion by nightfall, such was the swiftness with which these Elves could travel.

The question of whether Lómëmir had decided to go or was abducted was raised by those who did not comprehend the circumstances, and for a moment even Vaneldur wondered if such an explanation could be. He knew of only one way to find out and he went to find the small pack that she had been found with in the wood. When he found inside a ring bearing the form of two swans, their necks forming a heart of sapphire, he knew that she had not left of her volition.

Aragorn scarcely needed that much proof, let alone Vaneldur's plea for help to find her. After all, he did knew Eöl's story all too well. Neither Legolas nor Faramir needed much convincing either, both did little to conceal their dislike and distrust of the rare race of Elves. That very morning that a company consisting of Aragorn, Legolas, Faramir, and Vaneldur, accompanied by a small but powerful and skilled unit of Ithilien Rangers set out, Legolas leading the party as he traced with Elven senses (but not without some difficulty) the captor's path. It happened as a strange coincidence it was also that morning that Gandalf had chosen to show up again after disappearing the evening of Vaneldur's trial.

---

_If anyone does want me to post some background info relating to the Avari Elves and Eol in particular, let me know and i will be pleased to. _

_Any other questions, comments, concerns - cards, calls, or money?_


	17. Pursuit

Even had the rescue party kept at their optimal pace night and day they could not have hoped to get closer to their quarry along the way. It would likely take them at least several weeks to make the journey, that was without accounting for the encumbrance of weapons and mail and supplies. Aragorn began to realize that he had acted hastily in marshalling the party when Legolas told him on their second evening out that their slight traces were already diminishing, telling him that they had moved at great speed. When the night sky was obscured by thick clouds which broke of their watery burden with dawn Legolas gave up even the pretense of trying to follow signs of passage.

That morning a white rider from Minas Tirith had reached them en route. Aragorn realized just how foolish their attempt must have looked to Gandalf, and stepping aside with him and Legolas they debated their options. Gandalf informed Aragorn that his family would be due in Minas Tirith by Midsummer, in two months time, thus not leaving Aragorn and Faramir adequate time for this new mission. There would be far too much requiring their attention at home, Aragorn understood, though he felt supremely guilty and had a feeling that Vaneldur would not take abandonment of their cause very well.

Gandalf proposed that the all former and present Rangers return to Minas Tirith and leave the work up to those who could travel in such a way that would not present any delay. The wizard found himself rather surprised that Aragorn, knowing as much as he knew him to, would attempt to storm the far-away kingdom. Such would likely have terrible consequences because of the rashness of Dark Elves.

Legolas was all for Gandalf's plan, growing annoyed as he was with the slow pace the Mortal faction forced on them. It was decided then, and with a deep sigh Aragorn went to Vaneldur to tell him of their decision. It was much as the king had expected, the young man's eyes gleamed of the sting of what he felt to be betrayal. Aragorn explained that Gandalf and Legolas would continue on since they fared a much better chance of speedy success than they did hindered by a whole party. Vaneldur understood Aragorn clearly, but utterly refused to be kept from his purpose. Aragorn knew the passion that drove the younger man, but he tried fruitlessly to convince him to stay and let other's help him.

Vaneldur would not have it though, and instead begged Aragorn's leave from his only just acquired rank.

Compassion flooded the king's mist grey eyes and he laid a hand to the captain's shoulder. "You have my leave, Vaneldur, but only temporarily. It is still your office and will be here for you when you return. Godspeed, lad."

Vaneldur knelt to Aragorn in abundant thanks for his understanding and went immediately to Gandalf and Legolas, who were ready to set forth. The two immortals glanced at each other, then at the young man. "You will have to keep up to us," Gandalf said.

"Elsewise follow us," Legolas added.

Vaneldur nodded silently and with that, and gruff-sounding "don't do anything stupid" from the lone dwarf of the retreating company, they set swiftly off to lands uncharted.

---

After three nights King Morion and his people, and their sleeping queen (read: captive), were but one day further from the crossing at the River Running. The original course, which would be quickest was changed as they took one of the very few rests they'd had. The King decided that instead of passing between Erebor and the Iron Hills, they would circle east of the mountains where few Dwarves dwelt. Mistrustful that someone, such as the young guard who he so often saw escorting her, might have objected to him taking his queen back home, and paranoid that, had they alerted the rather mean looking Dwarf who seemed to be friends with the rude young Mirkwood Prince, there was a possibility that a message could have reached Erebor and the settlement at the Iron Hills to be on the lookout.

Being so near their destination, and very sure that they were not being trailed by any of the humorously pathetic Mortals who guarded the city of Men, Morion allowed for a full night's rest before they came to the river and the last stage of their journey before they reached their home. Feeling so self-confident because of his latest acquisition and because they were yet so far from the watchful eyes of other's lands, Morion ordered no guard to be set through the night that all of his company might have their strength renewed in a night's sleep. He was eager to have his queen wake in her new home, and so wanted them to move all the faster the next day before his sleeping potion wore off.

What the Elf-king did not know, and would have known had he traveled less hastily, was that their sleeping site was directly in the line of a roving orc horde's path. The three-dozen or so deeply dreaming Elves made simple prey for the wild orcs. With more stealth than such vile creatures appear to have, they approached the sleepers and assessed each one. It was obvious that Morion was the highest ranking in this small group and the orc leader hatched a devious plot when he saw the she-Elf sleeping beside the king. There was a brief moment of dissent when several orcs of lower rank wanted to take at least two of the guards to feast upon but the leader silenced them and ordered that only the female be taken, and that they be very careful with her until he gave word otherwise.

Morning rose and with the new day woke Morion to find his Lady missing. There was a bloodcurdling cry when he saw the orc tracks leading away toward the Sea of Rhún. Rage flooded the king as he ran directly after their path, heedless of the men who followed him bewildered, and all else for that matter. He loudly swore most terrible vengeance on the hideously deformed beasts if even one of them had dared to harm his ladylove in any way, shape, or form.


	18. Kinstrife

In the next three days, the pace was tripled for Gandalf, Legolas, and Vaneldur. Both were rather surprised at how well he kept up and kept going on their small Lembas supply, which both Legolas and Gandalf had judiciously set aside. Gandalf seemed to think that Vaneldur was running on purely passion, and did not truly hope that he would keep pace much past Dagorlad. Sure enough, it was on that former battlefield that the young man began to falter.

That had been five days since Lómëmir went missing, and it was also the same day that the effects of Morion's enchanted water wore off, leaving Lómëmir to wake in the shadow of the hills at Rhûn, being jostled about by a running orc. She immediately closed her eyes again, since none of the monsters had noticed her waking. She hoped to fool them for as long as it took for her to find a chance to get away or for someone to find her. She did her best not to move about but found that she needn't have tried, as she was already bound securely. It took everything she had to stay calm when she felt more terrified than ever and felt like weeping of horror. She noticed that even if she had tried to scream for help she could not, fear had an icy grip on her throat which rendered her mute. Prayer after prayer she sent urgently to the Valar, begging their aid. Vaneldur and Legolas had been sending just the same.

Even as Gandalf noticed Vaneldur falling more and more behind, he turned to Legolas, fear in his ancient eyes. "We must make all haste. There is little time left now," he said in such a tone that drove Legolas on unrelentingly.

"He can not continue like this," Legolas said, motioning back toward Vaneldur.

"He will not cease to try," Gandalf replied. "You remember the state that Lómëmir was in when you found her in the wood. He will exhaust himself to much worse if he continues. But we can not slow down at all, the Lady is in great peril. I only hope that Vaneldur understands." Gandalf hurried back to the struggling young man and offered him a sip from a concoction that he carried. Several minutes later Vaneldur was sound asleep under a low pine tree, wrapped up in an Elven cloak for protection, freeing the two immortals to pick up their speed all the more.

Legolas did not understand when Gandalf began to bear sharply east toward Rhûn, but neither did he question the wisest of the Maia. For the next two days and nights Legolas and Gandalf ran, scarcely resting even for water, as the hills on the southwest end of the sea loomed up ahead. Legolas had wanted to ask Gandalf what peril he foresaw and what it had to do with Rhûn, but the Elf remembered that in his childhood hundreds of years ago it had been a major stronghold for Sauron between Mordor and his Dol Guldur outpost.

Night fell upon the two would-be rescuers and they remained hidden within sight of an old gateway to the tunnels and caves below the hills. It would have been easy for Legolas to become disheartened of the screams that could be heard from the caves, but instead it sent his wrath to new heights and Gandalf had a difficult time convincing him to act judiciously. There was no telling how many orcs inhabited the hills and one false move on their part could be tragedy for Lómëmir.

Together they waited until day when the orcs would be much less active, while they formulated plans and studied entrances and exits from the tunnels. Just as they were about to move with morning's sun rising, a band of Avari Elves set upon them, encircling them.

Gandalf met Morion with nothing but unhidden fury that he would dare to think to stand in their way out of pride instead of helping them, since they all shared the same cause and goal. Naturally, Gandalf was known to even the reclusive Elf-king, and even revered by him, a very rare thing indeed. But when the heart is woken with desire, even the oldest currents of reverence may suddenly shift course. Though the wrath in the eyes of Legolas and Gandalf would have been enough to daunt most others, Morion ordered them to be bound and left where they were. He would not risk someone else intervening on his Lady's behalf, and it was partly borne of the guilt he felt at having put her in a dangerous situation in the first place.

"You are naught but an irresponsible fool!" Gandalf shouted at the King as his guard bound the old wizard's hands.

"If you fail," Legolas said in a frighteningly low tone, "and any harm comes to her, you may expect to have your immortal life come to an end at my hands."

"A strange thing for you to say, O _kin_ of mine," Morion rejoined to Legolas's threat.

"We are no kin!" Legolas spat back furiously.

"Are we not?" Morion asked teasingly. "My people remained by Cuiviénen, while yours went all the way to, what? Beleriand? And yet you think yourself so much higher than i? Haughty young prince, do you not know what happened to your poor Teleri kin? Yet you would threaten your own Moriquendi kin? Ha! You are no better than any Noldo."

With that Morion and his guards left the two helplessly and, seemingly, hopelessly bound, as they entered one of the many secret gates in the hills of Rhûn.

---

_Ok... so everybody knows what Morion is talking about right?_


	19. Dagor Rhun

Vaneldur woke upon his bed of soft pine needles confused momentarily, then angry, and finally terrified. He understood at once what had happened. The drink he took from the Wizard contained water from a certain river in Mirkwood. He was well acquainted with it from the days when he and his uncle traded with the Elves dwelling there. The water was well diluted though, and Vaneldur had only slept through the day. The sun was setting in the west when he rose, looking around and seeing that he laid just on the edge of the battlefield of Dagorlad. His heart fell as he realized that his King was right, he had only hindered them and possibly caused precious time to be lost in finding his belovéd. With a sigh, he decided to start the walk back to Minas Tirith, praying that Legolas and Gandalf would bring Lómëmir back all right.

The unmistakable sound of galloping hooves drew him from his burdensome thoughts. Warily, he spun round, sword drawn. He peered about, but saw only one lone white horse without a rider. The animal was coming toward him, almost as if with a purpose, but not in a dangerous way. The horse stopped but inches away from Vaneldur and nuzzled his shoulder as if to invite him to ride. The young man accepted this as his one bit of good luck in the last several days, and climbed atop the animal, ready to steer it back south to follow the Anduin home. The horse, however, had other ideas and as soon as his rider was settled, it charged off eastward with such speed that Vaneldur had to lean parallel with the horse's gleaming white mane to avoid the wind resistance.

As night enclosed the world, Vaneldur realized that the great beast took on an almost silver-like glow. He began to worry when the speeding animal slowed not in the least all through that night, the day following, nor the next night. Why he was being carried off toward Rhûn, he had no knowledge - though he did knew it to be a stronghold of Easterlings - but he began to understand that there is often more at work than merely the fruitless struggles of mortal Man. The horse only slowed when the hills of Rhûn came within walking distance and it stopped entirely when Vaneldur saw Legolas and Gandalf up ahead of him, bound and angry.

For a second Vaneldur warred internally, trying to decide if he should not just leave them as they left him, but he realized that this was no time for bitterness and revenge. All three free and armed (Morion had done nothing about their weapons) they went quickly to a hidden gate. Gandalf had not said so, but he knew Morion was rash in choosing the entrance he took. The Elves would almost certainly be caught. Gandalf was still muttering angrily in a language neither Vaneldur nor Legolas understood as they approached the gate.

Walking into the cave that lead further on in dark tunnels, Vaneldur felt darkness and dread weighing upon him. Legolas could not help but recall the mines of Moria and he remembered how much he hated being underground. If only Gandalf could have shed the dark cloak he wore to reveal the blinding white gleam of Secret Fire, but it would have attracted too much attention and needed to be reserved for a well-timed moment of escape.

It seemed hours they had traversed various corridors, occasionally going still and silent as some foe, mostly Easterlings, passed through another way all too close for comfort. This sort of thing perturbed Gandalf very little in these days, but it drew much strength from Vaneldur. Still he would not falter, he willed his strength to hold true until he could be with Lómëmir again. Whereas some passages were darker than Cirith Ungol, others were too well lit to risk taking, and even Legolas wondered if Gandalf was not just leading them aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon the elleth sooner or later. And yet there seemed to be a steady pattern of downward sloping and turns to the right.

Suddenly Gandalf held out a hand, stopping the other two sort. Without words he indicated that they should stay while he moved cautiously around the next turn. Staying close to the wall, he then beckoned them to come slowly on. What they saw chilled them. Gandalf was forced to put forth strength to keep Vaneldur and Legolas from rushing forward to the beaten fair Elf who was chained to a column in the center of a high, open chamber. They were looking down from an upper entrance which sloped down on either side of them, encircling the chamber until it reached the ground level. This seemed to be a meeting place for foes of the West. All too clearly they could see Lómëmir's gown torn here and there, her lustrous hair that once shone like flame hanging limply about her shoulders, her head hanging weakly down and her deep grey eyes hidden, closed. She looked to be alone in this place, but only Gandalf noticed that Morion, too, was chained there across the expansive room, though he looked in much better condition.

When an Easterling entered from one of the main level entrances and strode over to the Elf-maid, lifting her chin and trapping her in a rough kiss from which she did not fight, Legolas's rage could be contained no longer. Quicker than Gandalf could stop him an arrow expertly found it's mark in the soldier's throat. With a sigh the Wizard observed another soldier come in when he heard his comrade collapse, then another, and another. Vaneldur drew his sword and hurried down the long ramp as Legolas jumped from the second level ledge to land, fighting, in the middle of the foray. Gandalf followed Vaneldur, fighting sword and staff, cloak now shed. It had been the Wizard's hope to get in and get out unnoticed, but the fight had been joined.

The three fought seemingly impossible odds as Easterlings and orcs alike flooded into the chamber. Vaneldur had taken a couple of severe wounds and was beginning to have a harder time lifting his sword to parry and strike, but he refused to back down and kept willing his strength to hold just a little longer. Legolas had long since emptied his quiver and called upon his fighting knives which served him as well as ever.

Suddenly orc and Easterling alike stopped fighting, staring at two entrances which emitted a bluish light. Dread fell over Legolas as he recalled the last time something like that had happened. Vaneldur was just confused, but very relieved that he had a moment to regain what strength he could. Gandalf, however, was grinning. Two elderly men robed in blue entered the chamber, sending bolts of blue flame from their staffs. Orcs and Easterlings were literally tripping over each other to get away, some unable to dodge the blasts.

With the place secured, at least long enough for their mission to be accomplished, Gandalf strode over to and embraced the two fellow Wizards. They wasted no time, however, in exchanging pleasantries, but hurried to free the prisoners and get out of the underground as quickly as possible.

A reasonably safe and concealed distance away from the hills they stopped to assess themselves and their best course. Vaneldur lay back against the bole of a tree as one of the blue Wizards wrapped the wounds he received in the skirmish. Legolas sat by expressions alternating between helplessness and rage as he looked between the freed prisoners. Morion lay near Vaneldur, not truly harmed, but sleeping with his eyes shut of exhaustion. Lómëmir had not faired so well, and Gandalf and Alatar, as the Wizard had introduced himself, tended to her as best they could. She did not seem to be asleep, but merely refusing to acknowledge anything of the world around her. Gandalf laid a hand aside of her face and muttered something that even Legolas could not understand before rising and shaking his head.

"She is alive, but only in principle," he said, mostly to whoever wanted to know.

Legolas was the only one who could collect the voice to ask what Vaneldur was too choked to ask. "Will she recover, Gandalf?" he said quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer.

There was not a hopeful gleam in the White Wizard's eyes as he said, "None can foretell the future, young Legolas."

Vaneldur rose with some difficulty, trying not to aggravate his wounds further, but he had to be near Lómëmir at all costs to himself. Pallando helped him as he sat beside her, taking her far-too-pale hand in his own. The young man knew his belovéd would never again be the same lively Elf he had given his heart to. Looking at the suffering beneath the surface that his Lómëmir had been put through, Vaneldur's tears claimed him. "I blame myself," he whispered tearfully to the one he knew did not hear him.

"Blame not yourself, Vaneldur," Legolas said rigidly. "Rather blame that excuse for an Elf," he said glaring at the sleeping Morion.

"Legolas, _sidh_," Gandalf said evenly. "Such anger is not what we need now. We can not stay here. Will we have the welcome of your father's hall if we go to Mirkwood?"

Legolas nodded distractedly as he again fell to looking at the injured lady. It was up to the three Wizards to get the three Elves and the Mortal to move to safer ground, the unconscious former prisoners were born by the horse that bore Vaneldur. Vaneldur had at first insisted that he bear his Lady as far as necessary, but when he found that he could not lift even her slight weight without sharp pains he gave in to Gandalf's insistence.


	20. Mask of Healing

And so slowly and, fortunately unhindered by aught else other than their own infirmities, they crossed in three days time the expanse of wilderness before an deputation from Mirkwood met them, Thranduil having received word from Gandalf's small winged messenger that help was needed. Before long everyone had proper accommodations and the welcome of the Hall of the Mirkwood King, and those who were in desperate need of rest and peace received it in good measure. The Blue Wizards had left when the Mirkwood contingent arrived. They decided to go back to Rhûn and finish what they began.

Coming to check on his guests, Thranduil found his son standing in the doorway, sadly watching over the now sleeping Lady. "She is making good progress, _ion-nín_," the king said with a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "If the Lord of Mandos has not claimed her yet, i do not believe he shall."

Though they had certainly had more than enough of their differences, Legolas looked at his father, desperate to confide in him. "_Adar_," he said weakly, the word seeming almost foreign to him, "i love her."

"And you are not alone in this," Thranduil replied gently. "Gandalf has told me much. She is the Lady Lómëmir who dwelt here until recently. Often had i hoped that she might catch your eye, my son. She would make a fine wife to my heir."

Legolas stepped back, again looking proud. "No, father, she would not. Not when her heart belongs to Vaneldur. If i must inhibit my feelings i shall, but i shall not interfere." Legolas turned, stealing another longing glance at Lómëmir before going out to give vent to his passion with the bow and arrow as he so often had under Mirkwood's trees.

Over the next days the sleeping had woken and Vaneldur's wounds were healing sufficiently. Thranduil had bestowed upon the young man the honor of the title of Elf-friend, which Vaneldur graciously accepted, though his concern for Lómëmir had not dissipated. Every morning he went to her where she rested and holding her graceful hand they would talk for hours of anything and everything, from their dreams for the future to the earliest days Lómëmir had memory of.

Several times Gandalf joined them, and he explained some of the things that took place that Vaneldur did not understand. The horse which showed up on Dagorlad was one Gandalf had called upon, much as he was able to call upon Shadowfax at need. The Wizard spoke of Nahar, the legendary horse of the Vala Oromë, and explained how he was related to Linte. Gandalf also explained about Alatar and Pallando, telling how they had gone beyond the Sea of Rhûn and had even seen the Orocarni and Cuivienen and they had remained in Middle-earth's eastern regions. Aragorn had also traveled in that uncharted land, but had not gone as far as the Blue Wizards had. Gandalf told them that while Morion had been too busy priding himself on besting Mirkwood's Prince, he had been muttering invocations, calling upon the help they would need.

For some time they remained in Mirkwood while Lómëmir recovered, physically at least. She remained withdrawn with all but Vaneldur and often the only response she gave around him was her unnumbered tears. Spring blossomed fully all about and the hearts of many were renewed, and though Lómëmir tried to let her heart be light again, if just for Vaneldur's sake, it would not happen.

After the passing of three weeks since Lómëmir had gone missing from Minas Tirith, Gandalf talked again of returning to the White City. He knew that Elrond and Arwen and their escort were setting out for Gondor at that time and that they should do so as well. Vaneldur and Lómëmir had Thranduil's welcome if they wished to stay longer, since only Gandalf and Legolas were needed to take the now-confined Morion back to the scene of the crime, where Aragorn would have to pass judgment. Since his adequate recovery, the Dark Elf was kept in Thranduil's prisons under heavy guard.

Vaneldur felt that as Captain of Ithilien, even with Aragorn's leave, it was his duty to return with the prisoner, and Lómëmir would not allow him to talk himself out it. She agreed to the journey back to Gondor as well, but her ulterior motive was to return again closer to the Sea, where she hoped her heart could be made new. Gandalf decided to ride several days ahead of the other four travelers, he had matters to attend to with the King of Gondor that could wait no longer.

The rest of them arrived in the city several days after Gandalf had, on the morning of Midsummer Eve. There had been no incident along the road and with horses and ample provisions from Mirkwood they made good time. Lómëmir had spoken but very little, but she was beginning to get better at wearing a mask of lightness around others, she wanted neither their sympathy nor their pity, not after all she had survived alone before.

Morion had not spoken once, he remained more morose than ever. As usual, he did not let it be seen, but he was at war with himself. Seeing all his mistakes and misconceptions laid bare before him had a numbing effect. Suddenly he saw that the one goal he had pursued and wanted to attain more than anything he had in his many years could now never be reached. Morion had failed, for what he considered the first time, and it was only because of his own ignorance. He had not seen what was wrong with taking what he considering rightfully his, but now it was made plain to him that he never had any claim to Lómëmir. He wondered what the penalty was, according to Men, for abduction. He could have said he was sorry for what he had done, but he was not. He was more than sorry that it had lead to such a ghastly circumstance, but he was not in the least sorry for trying to achieve Lómëmir's heart in the only way he knew how. He was more than sorry for what he had selfishly lead his men into - when they were captured, the orcs and Easterlings had slaughtered his loyal guards almost immediately. As far as Morion was concerned, he risked it all and lost it all. He rather hoped that Aragorn would not stretch out his well-known compassion and let him live, or rather that the King of Men would know what real compassion was and not condemn him to carrying on.

When they arrived in the city Morion was taken into custody immediately and kept in the dungeons of Minas Tirith. For the next week during Aragorn and Arwen's wedding celebration he was well tended by the guards on duty, but forgotten about by everyone else in the city. Lómëmir felt somewhat comforted to be in Minas Tirith again with so many of her new friends, including the four Hobbits and Steward Faramir and the King and Queen. Just as Lómëmir had, Legolas had also sufficiently stifled what he really felt to the point that others would notice no change at all.


	21. Reunion

The same day that Lómëmir, Vaneldur, Legolas, and Morion arrived in the city, so too did a plethora of Elves from Lorien and Imladris. After the welcome feast, at which Lómëmir was not present though she was welcome to join them, Gandalf took Elrond aside briefly to tell him of who was in the city. Elrond looked very interested and followed Gandalf's directions immediately. It had been many years since Elrond had seen or heard from his cousin.

When Lómëmir answered his knock, Elrond almost did not recognize her. She invited him into her suite where she finally lit the candles, lighting the room that was dark since the sun had fallen. The Half-elf tried not to show his concern for his dear cousin immediately, choosing to rather talk about the days since she had departed Rivendell. With small talk spent, Elrond had assessed a great deal of pain residing in his cousin's heart. She was certainly nothing like the strong (and often head-strong) yet cheerfully spirited Elf who had been like a sister to Elrond, especially through their correspondences after Celebrian sailed West.

"What is it that gives you such anguish, my cousin?" Elrond asked her concernedly.

Lómëmir turned her gaze away. "Can nothing be hidden from your eyes?"

"Very few things can for any length of time, but most especially not in my own kin. How comes it that you are in Minas Tirith in the first place?" he asked, trying to let her work up to what really troubled her.

"I was in Ithilien when i met your foster son," she said, purposely leaving out the part about being found unconscious to keep Elrond from panic. "I had his welcome to come to the city in my search for... my love," she finished in a whisper. It hurt to think of what she knew Vaneldur would have to go through soon.

Elrond's eyes brightened at this prospect. "A love have you? Well, who is he? Any Elf i know?"

"Did i say he was an Elf?" she said, almost annoyed at her cousin's assumption.

Elrond sighed. "Not you too? Must i lose all of my family to mortal Men?"

'No, Elrond, i would be lost without him,' she silently thought, forgetting that Elrond had the ability to communicate through thought.

"Fair enough. Who is he, _pen-neth_?" he asked teasingly.

"_Saes_, Elrond," she said rolling her eyes. "Have you met the Captain of Ithilien?"

Elrond looked either shocked, confused, or both. "You speak of Faramir?" he asked before realizing that she meant the new Captain. "No, what was that lad's name? He is from Dol Amroth, correct?"

"Yes, Dol Amroth," she replied. "His name is Vaneldur, as you would know, had you paid any attention."

Elrond frowned slightly. "Well, i suppose i can not disapprove of that, but all the same.... Surely he is not the source of your sorrow? If he is, i did bring Hadafang."

Lómëmir's stare told him that she did not appreciate his dry humor. "He is not anything of the sort, Elrond," she said firmly. Slowly her firmness faded though. There was far too much for her to speak of, especially with her cousin's daughter being married on the morrow. But she assuaged Elrond by telling him that it was simply that the years had begun to weary her, knowing that her cousin could relate well enough to that sentiment.

For the next week, Lómëmir was able to hide all sign of sorrow as all of Gondor rejoiced of their new King and Queen. Lómëmir found herself somewhat jealous of Arwen's ability to choose between mortality and immortality. Lómëmir certainly knew what her choice would have been with each glance at Vaneldur, but then she realized that it was likely best that she was not given that choice, for she would surely not have lived even this long if hers had been a mortal life. She knew she was fading fast as it was and that the choice she faced was either to sail West much sooner than she had planned, or to be taken to the Halls of Mandos. Either way, Middle-earth had not the resources to support her Elven life for any more then maybe another several decades.

---

_pen-neth - little one_

_saes - please_

_Yes, short, fluffy, hardly counts for a chapter at all, i know. But seeing as next chapter comes right along with it...._


	22. The High Court of Gondor

When celebrations had died down to a dull roar, Faramir raised mention with Aragorn the judgment of Morion. Though loathe to have to make such a grave ruling so soon after his wedding, he knew the issue had to be put to rest before they left Gondor for the funeral march of Theoden. Calling together to the Hall of Kings high councilors of Gondor, as well as visiting dignitaries from Lothlorien and Imladris, Aragorn objectively explained to all present the circumstances. A few details were filled in by Vaneldur and Gandalf, and Elrond sat staring in disbelief that these things had befallen his cousin, who, like Morion, was not present at that stage of the trial. He understood now the sorrow in her that he had never seen before, but he corrected himself angrily remembering where he had seen that same sorrow before - in his own wife.

Some of Gondor's councilors grumbled in annoyance when Aragorn had a guard fetch Lómëmir and Morion, as they had hoped to break for lunch before getting involved in testimonies. In contrast to the Elves assembled, the Gondorians were pleasantly surprised when Morion, characteristically, spoke but little. They had been expecting a long-drawn-out self-defense such as they were used to hearing at trials.

When Morion was brought in in chains while Lómëmir was kindly escorted in, Aragorn told him that the facts of the incident had already been told, and that the foreign King was only brought in to speak on his own behalf.

Morion stood before the gathered and replied to Aragorn with what little was left to him of his pride. "I have naught to say, Lord Aragorn. If you and the good people gathered here already know what took place, then judge me as you shall. I shall not protest."

"Very well," Aragorn said, then asked the guard to lead Morion aside. He then turned to Lómëmir, asking her if she wished to say aught regarding the matter.

"Yes, i do," she said in her gentle voice. "What happened to us at Rhûn should not be placed on Lord Morion, for he too suffered because of it. I only ask that you and those your council with be lenient and merciful. Morion may have done wrong, but he never did so with any harmful intention. Must we not be tolerant of those who do not understand how the ways of our world have so changed?"

Many then were moved by Lómëmir's capacity for forgiveness and compassion. Morion looked from where he was chained, captive and guarded, at the jewel that was Lómëmir, and at once he loved her all the more and hated himself all the more.

Aragorn sat silently considering her words for a moment as Elrond looked with wonder at the gentleness of his cousin. "Lómëmir," Aragorn spoke at length, "may i speak the charge against him?" He asked her permission not as a matter of Gondorian protocol, but as a courtesy to her.

Lómëmir nodded, drawing herself up where she sat, prepared for the secret she had managed to keep for years uncounted to be spoken.

Aragorn rose from where he sat on the long-neglected throne of the King of Gondor and Arnor. He accepted from Faramir the formal scroll on which was written the charges against Morion. "I wish to make plain that this trial is conducted in Minas Tirith for the sole reason that both Morion and Lómëmir were my guests at the time that the transgression occurred. After these charges are read, i shall take council with officials of Gondor as well as Lord Elrond, his sons, Elladan and Elrohir, Glorfindel, Seneschal of Imladris, Erestor, Chief Councilor to Lord Elrond, Galadriel and Celeborn, the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien, Haldir, and Marchwarden of Lorien, in as much as these noble people are peers to Morion and in this way may good justice be seen done.

"That being said," Aragorn said, unfurling the parchment, "Lord Morion, King of the land of Taure-Forambalar, you are hereby charged with high treason against the Lady Lómëmir, titular Queen of the lost land of Doriath."

There were several predictable gasps as Aragorn re-rolled the paper, returned it to Faramir's keeping, and exited the hall, followed by those councilors he had named as well as Faramir and Gandalf. After all had exited Lómëmir rose silently and she too exited. She stood silently on a balcony looking south along the Anduin, waiting for Vaneldur to come to her, wanting to know if what Aragorn said was true.

Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before she heard his steps. "Lómëmir," he said, but got no further before she turned, her eyes glistening.

"I know how you must feel," she said. "Likely as not you think i am naught but an impostor and you probably feel as though you no longer know me. I would hold it against you not if you are angry with me."

Vaneldur stepped closer to her, holding her gaze with his as he took hold her shoulders, pulling her to him as he kissed her, proving beyond a doubt that he was anything but angry with her. "Lómëmir, i care not what title you hold, and neither do i care that you did not tell me. Your reasons are your own. It matters not at all to me, the only thing i care about is that you care about me as much as i do you and that you are happy. Why would i ever be angry with you or love you less, especially when i saw the depth of your compassion just then? You are an amazing woman."

As Vaneldur stood holding his belovéd, a guard approached, unwilling to interrupt, yet more unwilling to keep the King waiting. He asked that they follow him to Aragorn's meeting chamber. As they drew near, raised voices could be heard and the guard tapped gently as not to infuriate anyone further, but firmly enough, he hoped, to be heard over the shouting.

The guard who had the unfortunate duty of standing in on the meeting opened the door to admit them. The shouts fell silent as they entered, but just long enough for everyone to acknowledge Lómëmir.

"The laws of Gondor are very clear on this matter!" a man of Gondor continued to belabor his point to Glorfindel, whose opinion differed greatly from Elladan and Elrohir's. Elrond remained quiet for the time being, but he sided with his seneschal.

"Laws of Gondor...," Faramir muttered reproachfully. He remembered all too clearly what some of the laws of Gondor would have had him do, and what would be done to him lest they be contravened.

"You disagree then, Steward?" asked the tall elder man in black robe with tree of white insignia.

"I disagree," Faramir said forcefully. "Those laws were not written with such a situation as this in mind! Extenuating circumstances rest solely in the judgment of the King."

"It seems," said the Gondorian councilor, "that the Steward has disagreed with many of Gondor's laws. Including one written by his own father's hand not but a few months before war came upon us." The councilor turned to a page in a law book he was always seen with, ready to cite the slightest infraction. "Here it is, the trespassers law...."

Faramir slammed a fist against the desk he stood beside in rage. "Damn you man! My father was a paranoid madman when he declared that and you know it!"

"The law is the law, _Steward_," came the sneering retort. "Perhaps we should be conducting more than one trial this day."

Things nearly came to blows between the two Men before Aragorn stepped in. The King's head had begun to throb dully and did not promise to get better soon. "_Sidh_, Faramir, _havo dad_," he said calmly, laying a hand to the younger man's shoulder.

Faramir nodded in acceptance and complied. "_Be iest lîn, aran-nîn_," he said respectfully.

"As for you, Hador," Aragorn said more firmly to the councilor, "i ask that you remember that old business of our council was dispensed with in our first meeting after the coronation. If you had wished to raise some complaint you should have done so at that time. As it is, laws written by previous Stewards are under my jurisdiction and i do not acknowledge your so-called Trespassers Law. _All_ are welcome in my Gondor. Now, if we may return to our point at hand?"

Hador nodded silently, too discomfited to speak. Aragorn politely returned the nod. "_Adar_," he said to Elrond, "i have certainly heard my brothers' opinions about the issue, as i have Glor's. What have you to say?"

Elrond sighed, the Man he considered his son sitting beside him attentively. "I agree with Glorfindel. I believe that Morion is responsible for what happened to Lómëmir, but that is not what is on trial here, and further, if the Lady can find forgiveness in her heart, who are we to condemn?"

"_Adar!_" the twins cried as one.

"We may differ in opinion, my sons, but do not lose sight of that which is most important," Elrond said almost cryptically. The two brothers seemed to understand what he meant, though, as they sighed and glanced at each other.

Aragorn leaned forward to look at the heretofore silent Erestor. "What say you, good advisor," Aragorn said looking serious enough, but with the tiniest edge of taunting that Elrond often used on his high councilor who typically rarely spoke at all during meetings.

Erestor smirked in acknowledgement before his countenance fell back to solemnity. "I can not, nor will i, pass judgment or say what i think should be Morion's fate. However, i do not believe that the Dark Elf will accept your mercy, should you see fit to bestow it, Estel."

The twins smirked, considering this a point in their favor, while Glorfindel glowered and Elrond's brow creased slightly in consideration of this. "Why do you say that, Erestor?" Elrond asked curiously.

"Did you not watch him when Lómëmir spoke of leniency? He does not want it. He feels guilty and does not want anyone's mercy. He does not think he deserves it. The Avari are notoriously and _extremely_ proud Elves." Erestor turned to Glorfindel, "you remember Eöl, i am sure?"

Glorfindel's frown vanished. "Erestor is right," he said resignedly. The Balrog-slayer had not wished to acknowledge to himself that this was indeed the same situation, even though he had said many times since arriving in Minas Tirith that the place reminded him greatly of Gondolin.

Aragorn silently considered these things before turning to the Lorien faction. Celeborn sided with Elrond, believing Aragorn should extend mercy, but Galadriel certainly disagreed. Though she and Lómëmir did not get along well at all, the situation reminded her too much of what her own daughter had endured. Haldir agreed with the Lady he served. A minor argument broke out between Elrond and Galadriel regarding respect for Celebrian, one that even Aragorn did not want to mediate. Fortunately his brothers quieted them both, not wanting to have those things brought up at such a time.

As they settled their argument for the time being, Aragorn turned to Gandalf, seeking his word on the matter lastly. The White Wizard only shook his head. "Like Erestor, i shall not pass any sort of judgment nor speak any sentence, for Morion and i have our own disagreement which does not enter in to these proceedings. However, i also agree with Erestor that Morion would not graciously accept your boundless compassion, Aragorn."

Aragorn nodded and sat back quietly, tuning out all the muttered bickering going on all about him. It was some time before he spoke again. "Vaneldur? Anything to add?" he asked, sounding pathetically weary.

"No, my liege," Vaneldur said quietly. "I put my full faith into your wisdom."

"Thank you, Vaneldur," Aragorn said, truly grateful that he did not have to listen to another arguing opinion. Rising, he extended his hand and asked, "Lómëmir, will you come with me?"

She nodded, rose, accepted Aragorn's hand and exited into another room with him. "Please, be seated, _híril-nin_," Aragorn said courteously.

"I already know what you will ask, Lord Aragorn," she said, a slight ironic smile tracing her lips.

"I suppose you would, not a deaf dwarf could not miss that uproar," he said, a hand massaging his throbbing temples and reminding Lómëmir much of her cousin.

"I ask that you give him a choice, Aragorn. Allow him to choose his own fate, it would be for the best for all involved, and in that way, none can feel either right or wrong."

Aragorn nodded and spoke very sincerely. "I thank you immensely for your wisdom, Lómëmir. I do hope that you are comfortable here and that you might stay with us for a while."

Lómëmir returned his accepting gesture and told him that she was very happy with her suite and it's appointments, indeed all of the city, and though she would make no promise of a length of stay, she did hope to spend much time in Gondor.

---

_sidh - peace_

_havo dad - sit down_

_Be iest lin, aran-nin - According to your wish, my king_

__

_Makes up for the last one? We shall find out in the next chapter what fate Morion chooses. Where would you have come in on the debate that poor Aragorn had to mediate? Does he deserve mercy?_


	23. Last Goodbye

Returning to the Hall of Kings after explaining to the councilors Lómëmir's, which satisfied the wisest and exasperated those less wise, Aragorn waited upon his throne for Morion to be brought in again. To most, he looked as regal as ever, but to those who knew him or had a discerning eye, it was clear that he wished desperately that this task had not fallen to him.

By the time they all had reassembled in the Hall evening was hastening on and the mortals involved were all a little ill-tempered that they'd had to forego a meal. Aragorn wished he could have just excused them and dealt with this matter solely with the Elves who understood Lómëmir's request, but as it was, hungry councilors or no, the matter had to be settled immediately.

When Morion was brought before Aragorn, by now looking no longer like any manner of king, Aragorn dreaded what his choice would be. He had a feeling that Erestor and Gandalf were all too right about his pride. He had asked Faramir in advance to meet with him in his study if the Dark Elf indeed chose the ultimate penalty as they would have to sit with the prisoner and make clear arrangements for communication between Gondor and Taure-Forambalar, amongst other wearisome things, lest his people try to claim retaliation.

Aragorn told succinctly what had gone on within the closed chambers. He explained that there was great division among them as to whether Gondor's law on the crime of high treason should be upheld, which would result in Morion's death, or whether mercy should be extended, allowing Morion to live and return to his people, but not to return to Gondor. Aragorn said that in the face of such discord, he would not be the one to give verdict.

Morion then spoke quietly and calmly, in a tone as though he was already condemned and had come to acceptance, though there was a discernable tinge of desperation in his voice. "Uphold the laws of your people, O great Elessar. You serve them."

Aragorn nodded, and replied, "I also serve those who would see me grant mercy. Thus, i had spoken with the Lady Lómëmir, planning to leave your fate in her hands."

Morion looked importunately at Lómëmir, praying she had not deigned to gift him what seemed to be termed mercy. Such a gift from her would have only torn him apart in entirety.

"The Lady's decision," Aragorn continued, "was that i should allow you, Morion, to choose your own sentence. This choice i give to you, to leave here or to die here."

With Aragorn's words, Morion stood tall, again looking every bit the proud and composed King that he normally did. The Dark Elf faced Aragorn with such directness that an outside observer might wonder which of them was really Gondor's king. He needed not even a moment to deliberate. When he spoke, his voice was again smooth and slow and perfectly majestic. "I choose the latter, Lord Aragorn," was all that he said.

Aragorn could not help the disheartened sigh he breathed as he nodded, wordlessly accepting Morion's decision. He had wished desperately that it would not come to this. As it was, nothing could nor would be done to act on the self-pronounced sentence until at least dawn of the next day. Aragorn rose and left the Hall in heavy silence.

Later that day he would meet with Faramir and together they would go to Morion to accommodate his last wishes. Then he would return for his supper and then going with Lómëmir again to the cell in which Morion was being held, something they had agreed to in the eventuality that the Dark Elf choose as he had. At the moment though, every Man involved in the trial other than the King and Steward rushed for their supper immediately.

When he and Faramir met, Aragorn asked him if he had taken any sustenance. He had not and Faramir echoed Aragorn's sentiment when he said that he had forgone many meals in the past without complaint, and further, that such circumstances rather put him off eating much. Neither of them really understood the Gondorian councilors who, born and bred in the heart of Gondor, had never been without a meal for the sake of allowing their men to eat; who, never having fought in any battle, cared little for the fate of others; who, mostly sheltered from the rest of the world's races, did not comprehend the weight of what it meant for an Elf to choose death over life.

After drawing up a few initial things, they went to Minas Tirith's dungeons. There Morion composed his final decree to the people of Taure-Forambalar, explaining what had happened and what and why his choices were. For some while Aragorn and Faramir listened to the ordinarily tight-lipped monarch. They were even surprised to find themselves chuckling together a few times. When came the point that Morion stopped speaking freely, they knew it was time to go and so they did.

Aragorn decided to forego his supper as well, instructing the servant to feed someone more in need than himself. Instead, he went to Lómëmir and escorted her to the dungeon, where he left them to say what needed to be said between them that the air might be clear in the end.

For several minutes both Lómëmir and Morion sat in quiet. Finally Lómëmir broken the charged silence. "Why did you not accept Aragorn's mercy?" she asked softly, less out of confusion than unpretentious curiosity.

"I did, my lady," he stated simply from behind the black wrought-iron bars of the cell door. "I wanted to thank you for convincing him to allow me to make my own choice. You truly are compassionate. Vaneldur must know what a fine and noble lady he has the love of." Morion's voice grew softer and softer with every sentence he spoke until he was only whispering. The Elf's voice was shaky and strained when he spoke next. "What happened at Rhûn i take upon myself. No matter what you say of mercy, it was my fault that you were in harm's way. I deserve to take the penalty for what those orcs and Men did to you. To be sentenced to a life of eternally living with my guilt would be much worse than life in the Hall of Mandos. If you live long enough and have the strength to, go to Taure-Forambalar and lead my people to the rest of Middle-earth. Enlighten them to the ways of the new age so that no one ever again makes the mistakes i made."

Lómëmir bowed her head, thinking that it was not likely that she would be able to help Morion's people. "I wish that you did not feel as you do, but i accept your decision as yours and yours alone," she said, her voice not reaching any further in volume than his had. "I shall all that i can for the people of your land," she added, promising herself that she would find a way to help them somehow.

"I have no heirs, Lómëmir. I have left it to my people to decide who they should follow next," he said, begging her aid without the nuisance of truly humbling himself. He wondered why it mattered to him at this point.

"I can not lead them, Lord Morion," she said almost apologetically. "I know what title i bear, but i am no queen. Doriath is no more, and that is why i do not acknowledge my title as the heir to its leadership."

"I ask you to do nothing, híril nín. It is i who am in your service." For another moment there was silence again, and Lómëmir rose to leave, feeling she could do nothing to change Morion's mind. As she started to walk away, Morion called out to her. "Wait!" he said hastily, causing her to turn. Morion looked his last upon the beautiful _elleth_, she seemed even more beautiful now in these dismal surroundings, like a jewel yet to be wrought from the rock it is mined from; now that he knew she would be one of his last fair sights; even now that she glow had diminished somewhat, enhancing in beauty in a bittersweet way. Morion let his eyes close, memorizing every detail about her, before he whispered to her, "_Im meleth le_."

Lómëmir was silent, as Morion hoped she would be, leaving him with his last memory of her in tact. Her sadness pierced her, but she understood the beauty of bittersweetness well. After all, without pain, there could be no pleasure.

Morning in Gondor came quickly, a huge crowd gathered, which Aragorn severely wished would disappear. As he stood in the courtyard looking out over the long, narrow precipice that jutted out down through all of the city levels, a chill morning wind off the Anduin caused him to shiver. Knowing what method of death the Elf had chosen did not help the matter.

At the appointed time, two High Guards of the Citadel came forth, flanking the free-walking dark-haired Elf. Morion's long, regal cloak whipped in the wind and his hair waved behind him as the grey rainclouds that had been gathering since the night before began to release their burden. No one uttered a single sound as the guards left Morion to stand aside their King.

The Dark Elf bowed gracefully to Aragorn, then turned and walked quietly out along the cliff. He stopped just at the edge and turned to face those gathered on the seventh level. His eyes found Lómëmir and a tranquil, serene smile washed over Elf. His smile only widened as he lightly closed his eyes and fell backward, as though merely falling into bed after a long day.

---

_Im meleth le - I love you_


	24. The Sea and Love

Faramir shuddered deeply and walked away looking stricken. Erestor looked at Glorfindel, noting the Balrog-slayer's tear. "Reminds you of Gondolin, does it?" the advisor said lowly, turning to follow Faramir. One by one all the others turned and walked away in silence. Lómëmir was the last to go, as she stood quietly in the gently falling rain, thinking of many things.

The rest of that day Aragorn and Faramir could not be found. They had gone to their studies and both had given most explicit orders not to be disturbed, no matter what. They both had stacks of work that needed to be attended to, thus the pretense for hiding in their studies. Neither one did a single thing the rest of that day, and many people of Gondor who were ordinarily busy took the same path.

After a while Lómëmir finally left the courtyard and went to Vaneldur's chamber, where she was held tightly by him as she wept. She had been just starting to think that perhaps she could altogether heal from the trauma she endured, but this day had proved trying and she had to take rest. When she woke alone in Vaneldur's chamber evening's many hues were surrounding her and she began to feel a little better.

The knock at his door startled her, and she was hesitant to answer, well aware of mortal perceptions about women in men's chambers. She would not have had her love's reputation compromised in any way. That was until she heard who had come to find her.

"_Pen-neth_," her cousin said, not able to finish his sentence before she opening the door, glaring at him in a way that proved that they were related.

"You do recall that we are the same age, do you not?" she said, sounding much more like herself now.

"Or course i do, but how else would i have gotten you to open this door," Elrond said with a grin that proved that he was in fact related to his two eldest sons. "Come, _meldir_, dine with us."

Lómëmir accepted his arm, though in the back of her mind she hoped that when Elrond said "us" he was referring to a small, quiet group, made up of Elves she had known for years. She was still in no mood to be very social. Entering the small but comfortable, private hall, she was not disappointed. The only one's there were those she had known from her years in Imladris. It was then that she realized that she had not seen Legolas in two days. The thought did little to really surprise her though, she guessed that he had decided to take some rest in the Grey Wood or some such nearby forested area.

While the Rivendell Elves, including Lómëmir, Elrond, the twins, Glorfindel, and Erestor dined in relative peace, the inevitable subject of Mithlond, ships, and Valinor arose. Elrond knew that he would be leaving only another two years. It was beginning to seem that time had sped up suddenly for these Elves. Elladan and Elrohir weren't going anywhere. For years they had fought side-by-side with their Mortal brother and his kin, and they were not about to leave them now. Besides, they reasoned, someone needed to stay around to teach Aragorn's children a thing or two.

Glorfindel was in no rush to get back to the Western side of things, but he knew he would one day sail. He guessed that he and Celeborn would probably make the trip together. Erestor agreed that he would probably sail at that time too, considering that he had so much work to do in Imladris yet that it would likely take him that long just to finish what waited for him as it was. When Glorfindel mentioned that he had heard Legolas talking about waiting until Aragorn's rule had gone to an end to build a ship, Lómëmir questioned him.

"Teleri blood," Glorfindel answered simply. "It's in his nature, he shall not even have to try. In fact, i would wager that he could do it blindfolded."

Lómëmir thought quickly that Vaneldur was likely to have a life span just shy of Aragorn's, and she wondered if Middle-earth could sustain her long enough for her to sail with Glorfindel, Erestor, Celeborn, and Legolas. She mentioned it to them, Erestor telling her that they would be honored to have her join them.

Elrond was the only one who was not at all pleased with this idea. He knew all too well what kind of time frame Lómëmir really had to consider. She might be feeling able to live another couple of centuries here now, but he knew that her world would plunge back into sadness sooner than she knew. He had hoped that she would sail with him, he felt sure that another two or three years was all that she could hope to have here.

When he said, as gently as possible, that he did not consider their idea a viable option for his cousin, he received the response he dreaded. Lómëmir stared openly at Elrond and said, "I will not leave him."

Elrond sighed. This was becoming routine to the Peredhil. "Lómëmir, i am not sure that you understand this. I know what happened to you, my adored wife endured the same. You need the haven of Valinor. Even if you do not feel it now, it will come back, stronger, and the terror of your memories will never leave you until you make the journey into the West. And if you stay here and try to make a life with Vaneldur.... It is not even nearly possible for you. If you really extend yourself, you may be able to survive here for another ten year, at best. I know that it would hurt to leave now, but it will be worse if you leave later. Take my advice, _meldir_. For the next two years, enjoy yourself, enjoy Middle-earth while you may, and then say your farewells and allow him to live the rest of his life here. He does not have our time, and you see that he is well liked by Aragorn and Faramir, and i like him as well. They trust him with positions of authority and much responsibility, and that will take much of his time. Let him have his life and let yourself have yours, Lómëmir."

Elrond was the only Elf present who could not see how wrong he had been to say what he had said. Lómëmir rose calmly and bid a gracious goodnight to everyone other than her cousin. She did not actually acknowledge that he had been there at all.

"Lord of Imladris," Elrond muttered, very exasperated. "Some good it does me, for all i am paid heed to."

Lómëmir was now firmly determined that she would not leave Vaneldur, and that she would savor every moment of life she could with him. All that Elrond said had only served to stir in her heart the common knowledge that when an Elf finds love, nothing can destroy it. Never before, even in all her many long years, had she experienced such feelings as Vaneldur moved her to. She decided to find him and speak with him about her decision, sure that he would be glad that she wanted to be with him as long as possible. When she had considered leaving him, she felt such guilt at the thought of how hurtful it might be to him. He did not seem to be any of the usual places around the Citadel, but then her Elven hearing caught the sound of his voice coming from Aragorn's study. She was shocked to overhear them discussing a change in Vaneldur's position, and though she did not mean to listen in, it was unavoidable.

"Believe me, Vaneldur," she heard Aragorn assure him, "Faramir will understand this. We both like Lómëmir and have hated seeing what she has had to suffer. Faramir's own mother was from Dol Amroth and she could not live here. This is no place for one whose heart is at the sea."

"My leige," Vaneldur said humbly and rather quieter, "if it is not too bold, might i ask you something?"

"Please, Vaneldur," Aragorn replied.

The younger man stalled slightly, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to enquire. "I know how well you understand Elves, and... well... i had been wondering.... I care very much, very much for Lómëmir... but... i just do not know if it... is it dangerous for her to...?" Vaneldur was flushed and feeling like a complete fool being caught so wordless and childlike with his King, of all people.

Aragorn smiled, his grey eyes speaking of boundless understanding. "I am correct in guessing, Vaneldur, that you would like to know if it would pose any threat to your Lady if you were to ask for her hand?"

Vaneldur was again caught speechless, this time by Aragorn's precise surmising of what he was thinking. Silently he nodded.

"Love never poses a threat, Vaneldur, and it will never do harm for you to tell her what you feel," he said, sounding very wise. Though in the back of his mind he wondered if he wasn't giving the lad false hope. Lómëmir was still in a fragile state, this he knew from conversations with Elrond, but she had been seeming much better, after all.

"I want to marry her," Vaneldur said at length, his voice indicating quite plainly how in love he was with her.

"I wish you the best, Captain," Aragorn said sincerely. "Might i offer one bit of advice though?"

"Naturally, my Lord," Vaneldur replied, trying to chase the daydream quality from his speech.

"Do not lose a moment's opportunity with her," he said smiling, knowing he had no need to say that to Vaneldur. "Oh, and if her father is still around and insists that she marry none less than a King... go and find yourself a kingdom," Aragorn said with a wide grin, knowing that Lómëmir had no immediate family other than her cousin (which could well prove more than enough for the poor young Man); but he somehow couldn't resist someone else getting a glimpse of the same feeling he had when Elrond had declared that the absolute minimum requirement for marrying his daughter was the Kingship of Gondor and Arnor.

Having overheard all, Lómëmir's heart swelled as she hurried to Vaneldur's chamber to wait for him.

---

_meldir - dearest friend_ _(same translation as meldur)_


	25. Breaking and Binding

When everything had been finalized, Vaneldur thanked Aragorn profusely for everything he had done for him in the last few months before Aragorn ushered him out of his study, encouraging him to go find his belovéd without delay. When Faramir appeared at Aragorn's door next, the conspirators shared a knowing smile and a celebratory ale.

Vaneldur fairly ran through the Citadel on his way to Lómëmir's chamber, thinking that she was not likely to be asleep still in his chamber. Suddenly he remembered forgetting something in his chamber and raced back. He was in such haste looking for the sapphire ring from Dol Amroth, which had been his clue that his love had been taken from Minas Tirith, that he didn't notice Lómëmir sitting by the window until he was halfway out the door again.

He turned slowly, unsure if he had really seen her, she looked so otherworldly and mystical, as one to be revered deeply, in the moonlight, framed by the stars, in the pale blue gown she wore, hair long wavy hair cascading over her shoulder. When she smiled to him he ran to her and swept her up into his arms, kissing her deeply. He set her gently on the bed and knelt before her, taking her hands in his. For a moment he was lost in her eternal grey eyes. He had forgotten the many words he had planned on saying to her.

"Lómëmir, i have just been released of the Captaincy of Ithilien and given the same position in my home, Dol Amroth by the sea. Will you...," Vaneldur's voice trembled slightly, "will you come with me there and be my wife?"

For a moment Vaneldur saw his love, smiling genuinely again, radiant and lifeful, no sorrows a steady current under a mask of happiness, but truly filled with pure joy. "I will be your wife," she said simply and happily, her Elven voice making Vaneldur quiver of exhilaration. This moment would become Vaneldur's greatest treasured memory in his life.

The next day a feast was given in honor of the newly betrothed and to formally install Vaneldur as Captain of Dol Amroth. Glorfindel had had to sedate Elrond with a bottle of Dorwinion wine when he heard the news and the Peredhil had taken to muttering the phrase, "Two more years i have to put with this place...." His cousin was his mother's brother's daughter, and as such, could not choose mortality, and yet she had made the choice his own daughter had made.

Moodiness radiated out of him to the point that even the great Balrog-slayer decided to leave for a while. Erestor was the only one brave enough, or jaded enough, to sit anywhere near the Lord of Imladris at the feast. But seeing his cousin so obviously happy, almost as though nothing had ever happened, softened Elrond's thoughts. By the end of the evening, and a little more wine, he was more merely melancholy than anything, aching for the day when he would see his own wife again, something he had not allowed himself to feel in many years.

It was little less than a week later when Éomer et al returned to the White City. Most everyone who had been residing at the Citadel would be making the funeral march of Theoden to Edoras then dispersing their own separate ways. There was, again, a feast the night before the march at which Lómëmir and Vaneldur bid goodbyes to many of their friends, for they were going to remain in Gondor. They had not really intended to leave the city anyway, but when it was noted that Éomer was still not speaking, not even in a social context, to either of them it solidified that plan.

It was not until morning, however, that Lómëmir fared her cousin well. They had always been so close, especially for the years she lived in Rivendell, that it hurt her to see him so upset by her choices. When she went at morning to his chamber to bid him a safe journey, Elrond held her as if still convinced that this should be the last time he would ever see his cousin. Taking a step back he put his hands along her face, looking deeply into her eyes. "Are you really certain, Lómëmir?"

She just smiled slightly and nodded, a sincere look in her eyes.

Elrond shook his head and sighed. "I shall miss you deeply, _pen-neth_."

She grinned, this once she did not get angry with his pet name for her, and kissed his cheek gently. "Give my greetings to Celebrian," she said before leaving to let her cousin finish getting ready to depart his foster-son's realm.

When she met up with Glorfindel and Erestor on their way out to the courtyard where the travelers were assembling they both advised her to ignore Elrond's fears. "His mind is still half-Mortal," Glorfindel said, "and lately the Mortal half has been getting the use it missed while he was busy being a great Elf-lord."

"You know, should you happen to overstay your time here, that even Lord Námo does not keep his visitors _that_ long," Erestor said, indicating Glorfindel, who glared at Erestor's self-satisfied smile.

Lómëmir smiled at them both, thanking them for their support and promised that she would keep in contact with the Rivendell faction, though she wondered why Legolas had not sought her out to say farewell. She knew that he and his Dwarf-friend would be traveling then returning to Gondor, she had hoped to see him before they set off, though she understood that the young Prince seemed to have much on his mind of late.

As all departed from Minas Tirith, she and Vaneldur stood and saw their respective people off as far as their eyesight allowed them. Vaneldur stayed beside Lómëmir long after his own vision no longer saw aught but the land around them, until she turned and they went back into the Citadel together.

Two months later when Aragorn and Arwen and Faramir and their people returned to Gondor, Aragorn gave the young Captain and his betrothed a grand wedding/farewell feast, for the next morning they would be leaving, as husband and wife, for Vaneldur to take up his office in Dol Amroth.

With sunrise on the morning after the wedding feast, Vaneldur woke but lazily, still in his new bride's arms and relishing entirely the fact that Elves and Men of Gondor did not have the same beliefs about separate sleeping chambers for males and females. Though he pouted at his wife's whispered reminder that he was to report to Faramir to acknowledge his departure, he knew she was right and quickly dressed as she promised everything would be ready when he came back. Most of their things had been sent on ahead three days before besides.

Faramir was sorry to see his favorite Captain, and friend, leaving, but he understood very well. After watching his mother dying for the few years he had known her, and all because Denethor would not permit her to return to her home, Faramir would never deny anyone that right. He remembered when he had put in for an assignment in Dol Amroth, instead of the extremely dangerous mission to Ithilien, how his father had reacted as though he was asking him cut of his right arm - it actually seemed vital to the former Steward that his second son make camp on Mordor's front lawn. No, Faramir knew that Dol Amroth was right for Vaneldur and Lómëmir both, and so off they set, the newlyweds, promising to keep contact with Minas Tirith as often as they could.


	26. Namárië

When the two arrived in Dol Amroth many years seemed to have fallen away from Lómëmir as they drew nearer to the roaring sea. Immediately Lómëmir went down to the shore as Vaneldur secured arrangements for their mounts and was shown to their apartments overlooking the sea. He stood on the balcony smiling broadly, watching as his wife danced with the waves as only an Elf can.

A voice at his side gradually drew him from his bemusement. "I, Eärramar, greet you, my Lord Vaneldur," said the seneschal of the House of Dol Amroth. "I have for you a few items... a missive from his majesty, the Prince; several greetings; the cook requests to know what you and the Lady shall take for your supper...."

The man promptly lost Vaneldur's attention though as he could hear Lómëmir singing with the crashing waves. He had not held out hope that she could again be so lighthearted after what happened at Rhûn, but here she seemed more merry than when he first met her in the wood.

"My Lord? Are you quite well?" the man asked for the second time.

"What? Oh... of course, i am fine," Vaneldur responded, though mere "fine" did not accurately portray his feeling at that moment. "Everything is perfect, i am glad to be home." That word had a great impact on Vaneldur as he realized how long it had been since he had seen the sea.

"Weary from your travels i am sure," he said kindly. "Might that be my Lord's Lady yon?" Eärramar asked.

Vaneldur's smiled said it all. "Aye, the Lady Lómëmir... my Lady," he said softly.

And so it came that Lómëmir became endeared to the House of Amroth as Vaneldur grew to be greatly respected. After their fifteenth year anniversary Vaneldur had been promoted to a more scholarly position as Keeper of Records, which also meant more that he would have more time to dote upon his ladylove. It seemed a miracle to Vaneldur that his Lómëmir was so well, so like her true self. He wondered even if Elves had some wonderful ability to forget great tragedy. It seemed that a combination of her wonderful marriage and being at the sea cosseted Lómëmir's deeply scarred heart, and she grew again in luminosity and beauty, charming all who so much as looked upon her.

Yet it is said that the brightest flame is the one which burns out first. More years passed and though their happiness together never declined even in slight, Lómëmir again began to fade, imperceptibly to Vaneldur's adoring eyes at first, but soon the signs grew too present. It was in their 35th year together that Vaneldur woke in the night more often alone than not.

The first time it had happened the man flew into a panic until he saw his love standing on the beach in the light of a bright full moon. An hour at least he watched her, her light Elven gown billowing in the night wind off the sea, her hair whipping back wildly, but elsewise she might have been mistaken for a fair statue. He did not know how long she had stood there before he woke, nor after he fell asleep on the balcony (though he woke in the morning in bed, unknowing just how though).

Over the years this ritual became routine and Vaneldur nearly ceased to be concerned until one night he woke not alone this time, but to his wife screaming in terror. It was then that her night terrors began to take the place of her night travels.

In the next ten years her dreams did not get better, though she had ceased to scream out, now she would wake suddenly, trembling in a cold sweat after thrashing about, fighting her way to consciousness and out of the black nightmares that held her captive.

The terrors in the night never completely left her, but they did lessen considerably as Lómëmir learned to train her dreams. But as life detests a vacuum, a persistent weakness took the place of her nightmares. There were times when Lómëmir would turn down a much treasured walk in the surf with her belovéd, simply because she lacked the stamina to make the short walk just out of the house.

Having attained and surpassed the age of 80, Vaneldur was just beginning to show signs of his aging. Now and then he would notice a new wrinkle or a silvery hair. But Lómëmir was, as ever, the very image of youth. Now, though, seeing her looking so tired so often, Vaneldur thought that it was she who had shown more signs of age than he himself had. He began to fear, as he had so many years ago before they were wed, that their marriage and life together was costing her dearly for an Elf to refuse the call to sail for the sake of the love of a Mortal.

By their 64th year of marriage there were days when the Lady would not rise from their bed. Vaneldur came to be so concerned that he was in the process of composing a letter requesting his King's help again when Eärrama interrupted to inform him of two elderly guests asking after him and his Lady. He was surprised when he went out to greet these mystery visitors when he nearly walked right passed them. He greeted Merry and Pippin cheerfully, though he was sorry to inform them of Lómëmir's declining health, but he knew that she would be happy to see them, so often did she talk about how truly amazing she found Halflings to be.

Lómëmir was found by them sitting on the balcony, feeding seagulls from her hand. Though to their eyes, she seemed as fine as ever, if not a little tired, Vaneldur saw all too clearly how much effort even just her soft laughter with them was taking from her. Lómëmir seemed much cheered by their visit and all that they had to tell her of and for this Vaneldur would have bid them stay the rest of their days, but at day's end they told him that they would be going on to Minas Tirith with morning. It was then that Vaneldur pressed the letter he was intending to send Aragorn into Pippin's hand and said simply, "Guard of the Citadel, an urgent missive for the King."

A letter Vaneldur received back in Faramir's script only days before the King and Queen arrived in Dol Amroth. In greeting Aragorn, Vaneldur knelt (if not as swiftly as he had in years passed), and laid his lips to the Ring of Barahir before rising. "Always have you been at my aid, my liege," he said, clearly thankful.

Aragorn smiled and answered, "I do not turn away the plea of a friend, not when i know well how i might feel in such a situation myself," having lost not a bit of his compassion to age. Together they went to visit Lómëmir who had not yet found the will to so much as lift up her head. These days the Lady spoke almost exclusively Sindarin, Westron simply being too cumbersome for her breath scant to force. Aragorn needed take no more than one look at her to know that no skill of his could heal what ailed her and Arwen saw clearly that Lómëmir's fëa was being held to Middle-earth by nothing more than a spider's strand. Both chose not to impart these things to Vaneldur as he would have to face them all too soon as it was.

It was two days later when Dol Amroth's third, fourth, and fifth Elves arrived, having heard that the Lady was so quickly diminishing. Erestor and Glorfindel were staying in Minas Tirith for a short time when Aragorn had given them the news that Lómëmir was unwell, to put it mildly, and they had decided to wait until Legolas returned from a hunting trip so that they could all three depart for Dol Amroth together.

It could have been called throwing caution to the wind for the Prince of Mirkwood to come to the sea, but it was a risk Legolas was willing to take. The last time he had seen her had been the day of Aragorn's wedding; after that, the Wood-elf had purposely made himself scarce. Now to see her again in such condition was nothing short of heart-rending. Legolas had tried to talk to her, to tell her the secrets that he refused to acknowledge for the last six decades, but he found himself choking over every other word.

Lómëmir was filled with compassion, though, and reached weakly for his hand, which he wrapped around hers adoringly. "I know what you would say, _Legolas nan Mirkwood_. I have known for years, i am only sorry that i was not able to see you before you left Minas Tirith with the funeral march of Theoden. I have but one request of you," she whispered, though it took her some while to say so much at once.

"Ask me to bring you a Silmaril and i should see it done at once," Legolas said earnestly and, might it be said, somewhat tearfully.

A smile breezed over her wan features. "Such a thing you may wish i had asked before the end. It was my promise to Lord Morion before his death that i would find a way to aid the people of Taure-Forambalar and bring them to understand the new ways of the world, for he wished that none should ever again repeat the mistakes he made. I can not accomplish my promise, and nor do i lay this on you, but i must lay down my work unfinished. If you do not wish to, i ask that you find another who may."

Legolas had been detesting Morion's memory for years now, but all that disappeared in the face of Lómëmir's gentle request. "I give you my promise and my oath that i shall see your promise carried out in your name," Legolas said, no longer bothering to check his tears. "_Híril-nín... im meleth le_," he whispered, pressing a bittersweet kiss to her graceful hand and gazing at her for the last time before he hurriedly departed her chamber.

That night when Vaneldur came to take his rest at his fragile wife's side, she was looking so much weaker and yet, oddly peaceful. Vaneldur laid down and took her in his arms as gently as one would an intricately decorated hollow eggshell. He had barely brushed his lips with hers she spoke to him so softly he had to strain to hear her precious words, closing his eyes to ignore any distraction.

"_Vaneldur... im meleth le, galad-nín... coi-nín. Mel amin... namárië, meleth_." When Vaneldur opened his eyes in fear as her words trailed off to a last shaking intake of breath, her eyes were closed and no heartbeat could he feel beside him.

"Lómëmir?" he asked in vain. "My Lómëmir... my jewel at sunset... i love you more than all," he said, tears claiming him as they would for the remainder of the night until the man's eyes burnt as much as his throat did.

Every night thereafter was the same. Vaneldur called out to her as he looked at the stars above that she so loved, and the weakness of spending all his passion in his tears claimed him to sleep each night. No more did Vaneldur hear the roaring crashes of the sea without hearing Lómëmir's soft melodic song, no more did he look upon the hypnotic waves without seeing her graceful Elven dance, all just as it had been their first night in Dol Amroth together.

_Finis._

---

_im meleth le - i love you_

_galad-nin - my light_

_coi-nin - my life_

_mel amin - my friend _

_namarie - fare well_

_And so i have come to another ending. My apologies if this one seems a little "rushed" or if there seem to be loose ends left somewhere (if there are, my point them out to me, i would be greatly appreciative!) I wanted to paint more a picture of a fading Elf in this chapter, and yet make it clear that Vaneldur's love had sustained her for much longer than anyone would have guessed. I was going to give a line stating just that to Arwen, but i hoped that it would make itself plain in the writing._

_Love, as always, to my readers/reviewers. You shall see another story from me before too long, i promise. Look for something a little more light-hearted, perhaps._


End file.
